“OH MY GOD, TAKE A LOOK AT YOUR LEGS!”
I squealed with excitement only seconds after Connie walked in the front door. My friend smiled coyly back, as she parked her pram in the corner of the living room. Like Angelina Jolie at the Oscars - except in denim shorts and converse rather than a black velvet gown - Connie struck a proud, sensual pose.
I delivered the slow clap she so thoroughly deserved.
It was the first decent day of Spring and by some miracle the good weather had fallen on a Saturday. To mark this momentous occasion, we were having a bunch of mates and their kids around. My husband had dusted off the BBQ, removing the remnants of an early-April sausage sizzle and I’d even bought cans of cider with beaming rays of sunshine on them. It felt like a celebration.
The warm weather was truly delicious.
But nothing could be as delicious as Connie’s legs.
I wasn’t the only one to notice. As each mum entered the party, still dressed in winter denim, she’d stop to fuss over Connie. Words of praise and awe swept through the gathering, muttered in hushed tones and behind cupped hands. The attendance of an adorable newborn, paled in comparison. This get-together was all about Connie’s legs, which were not only exposed but also beautifully smooth.
Connie, mother to a not-yet-one-year-old: Had Shaved Her Legs.
* Cue applause *
Achievement looks very different after you become a mother.
The degree of difficulty associated with a previously ordinary activity increases tenfold. A haircut, a dinner party, or even going to the toilet WITHOUT A VISITOR become major milestone events. Like Connie’s legs (which she admitted later were subject to hair removal over two separate day’s showers because the process was so exhausting) they are something to be proud of.
Sadly though the acclamation these achievements so thoroughly deserve rarely eventuates. As mums we don’t pause often enough to pat one another on the back for our own brilliance. Unlike our kids, there is no star chart, no clapped hands or shouts of “Yay!” when we reach for the stars and manage to grab one.
And I for one think that’s something, which ought to change.
So behold! An Adult Star Chart.
One especially crafted for the mums of babies and toddlers that recognises the occasions when they have truly, gone above and beyond.
The Made The Morning Meeting star: For arriving at work on time despite having to feed, dress and drop-off at least twice the number of people you were previously responsible for. Extra points if you arrived sans rice bubbles, saliva, milk or poo on your work clothes. You’re my hero.
The Didn’t Blame it on Teething star: For spending all night up with a fussy sleeper and not wondering to your partner the next day “I wonder if it’s teething?” It’s not. It never is. You’ll know when it’s teething. Kids just don’t sleep. Fact.
The IKEA star: For taking one or more small children to a large department or warehouse style store and only returning with what you intended to buy in the first place. (Extra points if you resisted active requests for checkout trinkets).
The Elite Athlete star: For really, genuinely, actually thinking about going to the gym more than you did yesterday and possibly, maybe even booking in for a class (that you will obviously not attend because, Children).
The Banana Without Going Bananas star: For repeated peeling of bananas in response to requests for bananas, only for said banana to be angrily refused until it has been carefully glad-wrapped and returned to the fridge at which point it is demanded once more. If you can do this more than once a day without yelling, you’re a stronger woman than I and thoroughly deserve this star.
The Dry-Eyed Even in the Face of Mother-In-Law star: For remaining tear free despite yet another passive aggressive inquiry about how your post-baby weight loss regime is going. Mothers in law are like tigers - you must never show them that you’re afraid.
The Miss Clavel star: For impressively dramatic reading of Madeline - including all of Miss Clavel’s ‘something is not right’ hand gestures’ – despite having read it more than six times tonight already. You absolute trooper.
The Ultimate Acceptance star: For embracing leggings as pants despite deeply held pre-pregnancy opposition to the fashion aesthetic. This is where you’re at now, resistance is futile, which means acceptance is brave. Well done.
Mamas? Bravo, to each and every one of you.
And remember, if you’re going to reach for a star, reach for the lowest one you can. That way you’re most likely assured of success.
