In between the yelling, sobbing and the frantic Googling ‘are my children bloody normal’, The Unsung Mum has spent much of the six weeks’ holiday trying to be cool and fun.
So when The Unsung Mum was offered her first PR review, for Oxygen Free Jumping no less, she felt smugly clever and accepted with swag.
Having just lived through the longest summer holiday of her life, sustained only by the tiniest hope that September would eventually come, The Unsung Mum grabbed the opportunity to tire her feral kids out with two hands, and feet, if she could have managed it.
Entering into this wondrous new world of hot teenage referees telling your children off for you while still looking like something out of GQ magazine has amazed her.
She thought places like this were a myth, somewhere between kids sleeping through the night at six weeks old and not running off in M&S. Yes, today The Unsung Mum discovered what she could only call a bloody miracle.
The Unsung Mum weeps with joy as she surveys the plush blue seats and delicious looking cake that is sweetly singing her name.
Alas, The Unsung Mum’s bubble is burst by the screaming Baby who doesn’t want to wear her bouncy socks while The Kid thanks the rather attractive looking attendant by screaming “smelly poo face” then runs off in a fit of pure excitement to bang every single locker in reach.
Planting on her “happy” face, The Unsung Mum decreed that everyone will have a good time and be nice to the good looking people.
Despite The Unsung Mum’s strong scowl, The Kid decides that staying with her bedraggled mother is “not cool” and sprints off happily to play with the puppy kissed stewards, who give her tips on how to jump off the walls and flip between the trampolines.
The Unsung Mum, in pursuit of the ultimate pinnacle of middleclassness, thought that The Baby would like to jump around on the trampolines cornered off for under fives, while waving for the perfect Instagram picture. Instead, The Baby morphed into the wildest of beasts and threw the lovely soft play balls at the well-behaved children while shouting “ot you” at the top of her lungs.
After one full hour of watching her deranged offspring jump into the giant airbag and dive into foam pits, one of the rainbow people lightly remarked that it was time to leave.
The children, of course, in a harmony that sounded more like nails on a chalkboard screamed for “one more minute” and “one more jump.”
The Unsung Mum, remembering supernannys tips from last nights rerun, counted to three and demanded the little buggers follow. This went wrong on many levels. Trampoline parks, as it turns out, are bloody large open spaces with enticing obstacles to hide behind and extra bouncy performance trampolines to jump on. Perfect for any cheeky miscreant to escape a parent.
This, like most trips involving her wayward kids, led to The Unsung Mum screaming “get back here. Now” while muttering words like bloody hell and FFS under her breath.
In a fit of severe self control, The Unsung Mum managed to abide by the unspoken parent rule and not actually leave them behind like she threatened 18765 times already.
On the plus side, the happy people kindly round up her mob, thus saving The Unsung Mum from making up more excuses for why she can’t control her own children better. She’d rather jump into the foam pit via the monkey bars naked then attempt to chase after them again. The little scamps.
At home, The Unsung Mum pretended she was only opening the Jaffa cakes because she had surely worked off enough calories bouncing around, but we all know she’s lying to herself really.
Still, it IS Wednesday, so she will only have one. Two at most. Maybe.
** I was given the chance to take my offspring to Oxygen Free Jumping for free in exchange for this review. To be honest, the kids loved it so much that we have been four times since this (in under two months). All views are my own. **