So Happy In Town parenting blog

 

Dear Mr Playpark,

I can’t quite believe the day has come when I am sitting down to write this letter to you. Believe you me, it’s not easy to write. But I feel we can no longer pretend. Things just aren’t as they used to be, and it’s with a heavy heart I’ve realised the time has come for us to consciously uncouple.

Please don’t hate me. I know I’ve been distant recently, but you must believe me when I tell you that this has nothing to do with anybody else. I know you’ve heard the rumours about my dates with Go Ape, but it’s nothing. Nobody could ever replace what we had. I have come to this decision alone.

We’ve had ten good years together. Yes, there have been ups and downs, but mostly happy times.

I will never forget how you saved me all those years ago, when I had nobody else to turn to. I would arrive at your gates at 8am, waiting for you to let me in. Averaging 15 minutes of sleep each night with a newborn and a 20 month old, I was a woman deranged. One minute weeping, the next laughing hysterically like a crazed nutter.

The baby would be screaming. The toddler raring to go. You welcomed us with open arms.

Day after day I would turn up, hoping that you’d still want to see me. Most days I hadn’t seen a shower, same damp baby puke stain on my shoulder, nipples leaking through my sweatshirt, Ella’s Kitchen squirted down my front.

Most would have taken one look at me and run a mile, but you never once turned me away. Never once told me to get a grip. Put some slap on. Comb my hair. You accepted me for who I was, muffin top and all.

We grew closer and the children became more comfortable with you. I stopped wetting my knickers every time they insisted on heading for the stupidly high monkey bars (I would obviously wet my knickers for various other reasons, but that’s just life these days). Why couldn’t they just settle for the little slide?  But you persuaded me to let go, give them freedom.

Then one day, they mastered it. Do you remember that happy day? The relief and pride we both felt.  I no longer had to nervously hover around, sweating profusely, ready to speed dial A&E at any given moment.

And as time went on, I started to wear tinted moisturiser again and wear clean clothes.

You introduced me to some of your friends – fellow mums who have become firm fixtures in my life. I am so grateful for that. Warm balmy afternoons spent sipping wine in Peppa Pig beakers. You never judged. You were just happy for me that I was finding my feet.

And believe you me, I wish things could have gone on in this blissful way. But as the children grew older, I started to resent the time standing in the winter months, freezing my tits off (thankfully not leaking anymore).

I became cold towards you. And for that I am sorry. It wasn’t your fault.

But I knew that the end for us was near when recently one of my children innocently asked to be pushed on the swing for the 157th time and I found myself screeching ‘NOOOOOO! DO IT YOURSELF! I’M TOO BUSY MAKING MYSELF FEEL BAD BY STALKING YOUNG, TONED REALITY STARS ON INSTAGRAM!’

I felt anger and boredom. I am not proud of myself.

Our days were numbered.

I have to think of what’s best for the children and to be honest, the eldest had been getting tired of spending time with you for a while now, as hard as that is for you to hear. She finds you tedious and childish.

The youngest still thinks you’re the dog’s bollocks, and has taken this the hardest. I have promised him this is not a permanent separation. We will still spend time with you, just not every weekend.

I hope you understand. This really is me, not you.

You will always be so dear to my heart, you have given the children and I so much, but I hope you can see that it’s time to move on.

I wish you nothing but the best.

Yours with love,

Mrs S.H.I.T. xx

So Happy In Town I'm over the playpark

 

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