Swings, playgroups and libraries

Swings, playgroups and libraries. These are facilities that you will probably rarely or never visit unless you have children. They are the silent saviors in the fabric of our society that are off the radar for many people, but serve to save countless households from boredom or the dreaded cabin fever every single day.

It took me a while to find my regular outings for Mole and Hedgehog. These kept changing of course, according to friends, circumstance and the children’s ages. The NCT (National Childbirth Trust) Bumps and Babies group for example. This was one of the first groups I sought out when we moved to the area. It was full of babies and their mums, sitting on a huge crash mat in the middle of the village hall, a few sitting on chairs around the edge, babies being fed or crawling around, volunteers serving coffee and biscuits from a kitchen hatch, and a couple of stray toddlers running orbits around the whole thing.

Through this group I met people and heard about other local playgroups, also in village halls or churches, and as Mole grew into toddler hood I started expanding my repertoire. After about six months I had a go-to playgroup for each day of the week.

Between the playgroups, I would drive around the countryside, enjoying some relaxing quality time with the car while Mole slept on the backseat. The silence was golden. As we passed through villages I would make a mental note of any swings, vowing to return and investigate fully at a later date. I now have a network of about eight different swings that we regularly visit. They cover an area of ten square miles and a radius of about five miles from our house in any direction. I’ve ranked them all in terms of equipment, scenic appeal and ease of parking.

I know. Who knew that my life would come to this?.

Then we have the libraries. They come into their own in Winter time, when the swings are not an option and all we seek is a warm and preferably free cubby hole that is not the living room. Our local libraries are amazing, I am so grateful to them for providing us with hours of reading bliss, colouring in fun and lego playtime. The best libraries have bean bags in the children’s corner, a craft table and a suitably huge mound of lego on the rug just waiting to be waded in by Hedgehog.

All these services are great, especially for caregivers with more than one child who don’t have any other support during the day, but sometimes I get the feeling I’m being swallowed up in a world of children’s activities. Surely I can still connect with the adult world with Mole and Hedgehog in tow? Can’t I?.

I did try to take Mole and Hedgehog to more ‘adult’ places a couple of times, in a vain attempt to reintegrate myself into mainstream society, because, well, I was missing it. It didn’t work. I learned that toddlers and mainstream society don’t mix. Mainstream society is for people between the ages of about 20-60, in other words, the wage earners. Anyone outside of these parameters are viewed as either irritating juveniles who get in the way or irritating seniors who get in the way. It’s not overt of course, it’s all very subtle, but it’s there.

I took Mole to The Tate Modern a couple of times, to see a Miro exhibition. The first time, Mole was about six months old, and I thought it would be simple enough to carry her around in the sling. What happened was that she woke up and declared that she was hungry, so I spent most of the exhibition sitting on the floor propped up against a wall feeding her, while the exhibition viewers stepped around me.

The second time we attempted this was a couple of years later. This time I brought Mr M&H as back-up, so we were more optimistic. Despite pre-warnings not to touch anything, Mole ran headlong into a roped off sculpture, with Hedgehog shortly following behind. We spent 90 per cent of our time marshalling them, and about ten per cent of our time actually looking at the exhibition. Then Hedgehog sat down in the middle of the hall in protest about walking, and it all ended with us running out of the Tate in shame to collapse in an exhausted heap outside.

So, Swings, playgroups and libraries it is then, until they are at least five, when they will be in school of course. Marshalled away from society where they can’t get in the way or touch anything that they shouldn’t. One can’t help feeling as the caregiver, that we get swept away with them.

Do I hear the patriarchal and capitalist machine at work? The breadwinner cogs are turning and the caregiver cogs are invisible. Both types of work are important. Neither one could exist without the other. Yet one is afforded value, recognition and status, while the other is not. It's all about the money my friend. But that is a blog for another time.

Well, as far as I’m concerned, Mole and Hedgehog are mainstream. They are where the party is at. So I’ll enjoy my outings with Mole and Hedgehog, going wild at the swings, getting sticky at playgroup, and getting lost in library books. It's a smaller world than the adult one, more private and intimate, and dominated with child thoughts and conversations. Is this the modern day domestic sphere? perhaps so.

Now that I've spent some time in it, I have a lot more respect for the caregivers life, whether that is for a child, elderly person or otherwise. It's all about love, after all, which is pretty awesome, which ever way you look at it.

In the meantime I'm resigned to the fact that in order to take part in adult life, (with adult conversations that are not interrupted after 10 seconds with a chorus of "MUMMMMMM", we need a babysitter.

I'll be adding babysitters to my list of awesome and essential services for parents then.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to get back to being served ice-cream and chicken sandwiches by Hedgehog, who is playing with her state of the art new kitchen.