While on maternity leave recently, on one of the many days that stretched endlessly into night, I mustered up the considerable enthusiasm required to take my two youngest children to playgroup. There, I met a woman I clicked with instantly.
Perhaps it shouldn’t have come as such a surprise, but as someone who seems to have missed the necessary parenting DNA to find playgroup enjoyable in any capacity (really – is it just me?), it was a welcomed shock to my system.
As we watched our sons tumble down slides and deposit half-eaten fruits into the palms of our hands, we went deep in a way that seems exclusive to mothers. In the two-hour timeframe, we spoke about how unbearably challenging two year olds were, where the best fenced park was, how the mental load was suffocating, how our pelvic floors were holding up, who was going to win The Bachelor, when we were going back to work, how life-changing Three Women was, what was for dinner, how we were going to fill the next eight hours.
As the playgroup packed up and I realised I hadn’t even asked this woman’s name (but I did know her obstetrician’s), she sent me off with the mother’s equivalent of a fist pump. “You’ve got this,” she said.
And while I’m not generally one to toot my own horn, I knew she was right. I did have this. So did she. So did every parent at that playgroup. With the right support, we all have this.
As someone who will readily admit to being reliant upon certain creature comforts, for me, this support extends beyond my family and friends and into the products I use every day.
I’d become unhinged if my washing machine broke, I’m a mess when the spinning wheel of death appears on my computer, and my Nespresso machine receives more attention than my children do if it’s before 6am.
When it comes to parenting, the brand that has supported my family far and above any other has been Bugaboo. I recall being pregnant with my eldest son, and becoming acutely aware of just how covetable that sketched circle logo was to have on my pram. In the five and a half years that have passed, I still feel the same way. Bugaboo has been my side – helping me to feel like I’ve “got this” – for years. On the streets of New York City with two young children and a Bugaboo Bee. Shushing a baby while rocking a Bugaboo Donkey back and forth with my foot while on a conference call. Pounding the streets of Sydney’s inner west when my son decided the only place he’d sleep was in a moving Bugaboo Cameleon (really – who could blame him?).