Friday, June 25, 2010
Don't put baby in the corner...
We recently joined (at great cost) the whitest, most 'Dirty Dancing' type club you could imagine. So there is no Baby with a shirt tied above a toned little belly, or a lithe Patrick Swayze rhumba-ing about the place. Instead there is me, skulking away in a black Speedo swimsuit, trying to assess if I have 'spiders legs' peeking out from the bottom half, whilst wrestling with my kids in one of the many pools in this place.
I wish someone would put me in the corner, so I could have a couple of minutes to myself.
I became very concious today that there are many uber-yummy-mummies about the place. The kind that may have the odd stretch mark, but are otherwise toting a beaming baby and tow-headed toddler and giving Heidi Klum a run for her money on the 'post-baby flat belly' phenomenon. They are the kind of mums who have shiney honey coloured hair, and the shine is not from a mix of grease, suntan oil and mayonaise (as is mine) but from careful use of serums.
And yes, many of them are my friends, damn it. I am letting the side down somewhat, and one pair of glittery FitFlops is not going to do it. I am going to have to go full Bree Van Der Camp methinks.
Joining this club has made a mammoth dent in our budget, but so far, out of the week we have been members, I have been there five days. Five days of not having to devise a plan to entertain the wee blighters. Just plonk them in the giant sandbox with running water or bob about in a pool, trying to ignore the spiders legs resembling sea anemones around my ladygarden.
That makes it good value for money if I essentially take up residence there? I keep trying to justify the expense to myself and my husband. Perhaps we could move out of here and move into the clubhouse boiler room.
And who knows, maybe I will have a mild flirtation with one of the lithe tennis instructors who inhabit the club. After all, at that club I would be considered a 'lady who lunches', even if the lunch is some sweaty, sagging ham sandwiches on 'best of both' bread. And flirting with tennis instructors is what lunching ladies do? Right?
Today's spend: Nothing! Again!