The weekend saw Yummy Mummy on an unusual social outing. A very good friend is getting married soon and I was drafted in to help organise and then attend her surprise hen night. It involved all the usual things, pole dancing, having a nice dinner and getting a bit tiddly, dressing her up in something wholly inappropriate. J is one of life's superachievers and so are most of her friends. I was surrounded by three women who had done an ultra marathon across Namibia recently, a couple who regularly go on missions to look after neglected Chinese children and a whole host of bankers, lawyers and super high-flying girls to boot. These are girls who think nothing of scaling a mountain in the morning, followed by a light brunch and windsurfing to Macau in the afternoon. Well, maybe I exagerate, but you get the idea.
My and the only other Mummy sat at one end of the table and talked about nappies and childcare and in-laws and work. We had a bit of a winge about all of them.
Then it came to all of us saying how we knew the hen and why we love her. All rather nice and cosy. What shocked me was what she said about me in return. She said that she thought I was amazing because she had no idea how she could be as organised and fit as much into my life as I do. She said that she sometimes found it a bit intimidating (in a nice way) that I could have such a good job, be married, row and train as hard as I do and be a good mother. I was about to differ on that last point when she said that she had watched me become a mother and, after a few bumps in the track, had held it all together so well and continue to do so. I did the only sensible thing, which was to protest a little and burst into tears.
Not enough people tell us Mums, working or full time mummies, that we do an incredible job in keeping it all together. So to my Mummy friends, well done ladies. What J said to me goes for us all too.
And if you want another example, then head here for another great example of a day in the life of a working Mummy.