"But I don't want to go on a boooring old walk mummy," whined Emily, our six-year-old, when I announced we were going down to the river for our Boxing Day stroll.
We had to move fast, the sun had popped it's head out and the sky was a beautiful shade of turquoise blue, a change from the grey skies we've had the last couple of days. If I blinked it could go cloudy again.
"I want to do SOMETHING," she said still dazed and drugged by the previous day's activities and still surrounded by a mountain of boxes and wrapping paper.
Er, maybe it was my approach. I tried again. "Who wants to feed the ducks their Boxing Day Dinner?!"
"Can I bring my i-pot? Alexandra, our nearly five-year-old, asked tugging on my arm. We gave the two older girls i-Pod Shuffles for Christmas, loaded with High School Musical songs. They now looked like mini teenagers, heads bopping to a silent beat, with "I never knew someone like you" belted out between the occasional "oooooohhh."
They were really too young for them, the ear plugs kept falling out, annoying them, but hey, I got them for free (don't ask). That part went over went over really well with Scottish hubby. We hadn't realised we were speeding up their childhood.
"OK, coats on and let's go!" Still no response.
"Anyone with coats on in five minutes gets to eat the rest of their advent calendar chocolate!" (OK, even by my standards that was mean).
Down at the river we were joined by the rest of the South East on a walk along the Thames. I know my fellow walkers were all out-of-towners because I didn't recognise anyone and most of the local mums I knew were on a Swiss Alp at the moment, probably eating lunch in an outdoor cafe with lots of wine.
The only person I did recognise was the woman from Hong Kong who runs the cafe, where we stopped for chips and coffee. She offered us all sweets from her shiny Quality Street box.
"We're one of her biggest customers you know, I told my husband, not sure if I was joking. We did buy an awful lot of ice creams from her.
Then me and Emily took off to take some photos (what do you think?) Daddy and Scottish Grandma took HM, who wasn't high maintenance at all, to the play park. Alexandra tagged along with the photographers, though halfway through she decided that she had really wanted to go to the play park.
On the way back we passed a mother with a Baby Bjorn and girls in a twin stroller. The girls had runny noses and chocolate smeared on their faces, the baby, all in pink, was crying. That was me three years ago, I thought to myself smugly.
Yes, we've moved on. Bopped to the top, so to say.
This post was written by Susanna, a Thames Valley Mums Blog founding contributor. You can read more at her blog, A Modern Mother.
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