I’ve probably written this before, but man I hate the term yummy mummy. It kind of makes me gag and screw up my face. As long-term readers may have figured out, labels ending or beginning with ‘mum’ or ‘mummy’ really annoy me. From everything women with children do being mummy labelled to the whole ‘super mum’ thing, I think it’s inherently sexist but in such a way that it passes under the radar and is happily used to continue gender stereotypes.
I’ve never heard the term ‘delicious dad’ bandied around and until I do (or a lip-smackingly good equivalent) I will have nothing to do with yummy mummy. Well, now I’ve got that off my chest I can put away my feminist ranty pants and actually write the post I sat here to write.
Every Friday I load Hugo into the pram, drop Jarvis off to daycare and keep walking down to the local park to take part in a Mums and Prams fitness class. I started when Hugo was nine weeks old and the reason I did so had nothing to do with quickly dropping my baby weight or being a yummy mummy, but everything to do with why I blog here. I was saving my sanity.
I didn’t exercise much after Jarvis was born, the first few scream-filled walks around the neighbourhood kind of put me off and although the me back then would never have admitted it (not even to myself), I was pretty darn depressed. I didn’t get help for the way I was feeling and I really should have as the cloud really didn’t start to lift until Jarvis turned 18 months, around the time (perhaps not so coincidently) that I started to exercise again.
So this time, when I started to feel the heart-pounding of anxiety kicking in a bit too regularly for my liking I knew I had to get moving. And I was happy to find this group, run by a personal trainer just a short walk away. Every week we do something new: a circuit, laps up and down a steep hill, using the play equipment in the park and like today boxing and kicking stuff (my personal favourite). And while we do, our babies sleep, lie on a rug, or if they are unsettled we hold them while we do squats or lunges.
It feels good to ‘work out’ even though this is the only time in my week I do intense exercise. Even though my face in the above picture taken this morning on my way home is make-up free and my hair is all over the place, I kind of like what I see in that picture. I see happy, I see accomplished, I see strong (even though I am far from fit).
I may not be a yummy mummy, but I like who I am and that’s winning for me.