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Northern Mum

Crossfitting, pancreas acting, single mum to three

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Being survivors: Conquering the terror

I’m not going to lie to you, I was terrified.  My heart beat inside my chest so loudly that it felt like it may burst out in a fury, tearing my breast, leaving me helpless.  I tried to compose myself, knowing it was not good to show fear. But damnit; as I attempted to compose myself a bead of sweat trickled down from my brow, edged over my eyebrow, and dripped from my chin to the floor.

Using my foot as a brush I swept the evidence away and started to face my fear.

Inhaling deeply, I called to the children.  I was aiming to speak in a soothing, nonchalant tone, but instead my voice came out hard and raspy.  I ordered BB to leave the buggy – I couldn’t risk it and leave her in it.  She won’t wear the straps and the added weight would have caused more problems than I could cope with.

The twins were starting to act nervous, they must have been sensing my ill concealed terror.  As I barked instructions they jumped into action, allowing a bit of pride to cut through my horror.

Clutching the children to me, I promised them it would be ok, if we stuck together and did what I asked, we would come through this alive.

Biting down on my lip I stepped forward, the buggy I yanked behind me.  Every bag we owned sat precariously upon it.  One bag full of diabetic essentials, a bag of snacks, a bag of toys, a handbag of BB’s, plus four shopping bags.  The buggy was groaning under the strain, and it looked like a carrier bag version of Jenga.

I looked at the children.

“Now,” I said to twin boy, “go now”

He stepped bravely forward and I watched as he was carried by a mechanical monster, away from my arms, and suddenly down and out of sight.

He was on his own now.

“Go,” I said to twin girl, “watch her, hold her tightly.”  My eyes filled with tears as I watched my eldest take my youngest by the hand and away they stepped, sliding forward, then bodies still they were lowered artificially out of sight.

Eagerness to be near my children overtook my fear and I lurched forward, dragging the buggy, almost stumbling in my haste.  A chap in a suit tried to step in front of me, but my motherly growl stopped him in his tracks.  No one was going to come between me and my babies.

I struck out a foot, balancing the buggy on one arm, watching the bags jolt with the motion.  My toes rested on metal, moving metal, and fought to keep myself steady as the buggy bore down on my arm.  I went down, following the route my children had stepped before me, the chap in the suit fading out of sight.

As I stood, precariously, buggy on arm, fingers wrapped around three carrier bags, the handles cutting into my fingers, I saw the children, waiting at the bottom, waving me on, shouting they were ok, they had survived.

A wave of sheer relief washed over me, and relaxation seeped into my bones.  But then, as my confidence grew, my balance wobbled and the buggy wheels started to spin.  It tipped slightly and a loose apple tipped from an open bag and started to fall.  I reached for it but it slipped from my grasp.  The jerk of my arm caused my whole core stability to become unstable and I saw my children’s eyes widen as they watched me lurch from side to side, desperately trying to stay on my feet, to not become dinner for the mechanical monster.

Then I was there, with a final wrench I pulled the buggy clear of the mechanical teeth.  My children leapt on to me, laughing and shouting with unrestrained glee.

We were together again, we had made it.  We were jubilant.

Walking away, a child in each hand and one back in the buggy I threw a glance back to the machine that threatened to split us and I laughed in its empty silver face.

Then Twin boy looked at me and said, “Mummy do we have to try and go up the escalator when we get off the tube?”

Shit! I forgot we had to repeat that horror on the other side.

It was a subdued journey to Oxford Street.

Can someone please give some money to the Underground to put in more bloody lifts.

Comments

  1. Nikki Thomas says

    April 18, 2014 at 5:28 am

    Oh yes I have been there many times and those underground ones are hideous. In the summer my husband list his balance and it was like a domino effect as he pushed into the people in front of him and about thirty people all lurched forward. Luckily there was a huge man about half way down who seemed to stop everyone falling. It was scary and quite funny (I was behind him thankfully) but yes to the lifts!

    Reply
  2. Mammasaurus says

    April 18, 2014 at 7:18 am

    I spent 85% of this post thinking ‘lordy what’s happened?!’ and the last 15% laughing – you minx!

    Reply
  3. Coombemill says

    April 18, 2014 at 7:26 am

    A very funny post with a little serious undertone, I think everyone has had a worry moment with those machines, little ones and pushchairs, certainly I have.

    Reply
  4. otilia says

    April 18, 2014 at 7:48 am

    oh yes. i know i all to well. Oxford street tube is definitely not parents friend. next time you should take the walking route from tottenham 🙂 love how you write!

    Reply
  5. Penny A Residence says

    April 18, 2014 at 8:09 am

    Its the ticket machines that always finish us off!

    Reply
  6. Steph (@imcountingufoz) says

    April 18, 2014 at 8:42 am

    You definitely develop a knack for this when you live in London with a buggy-aged child… and then quickly lose it again when you move seventy miles out 😉

    Its the stairs to get out of the stations that get me… that and the fact that no bugger who works there will help due to “health and safety”.

    Reply
  7. Rebecca says

    April 18, 2014 at 9:35 am

    I did my first trip to London with all three this week too. Yes totally terrifying! I can totally understand your fear! Luckily we didn’t have a buggy but we did end up with a huge hamper as we were going to a blogging event. My 6 year old had to hold the hamper so I could hold the twins’ hands. Was so proud of her. Very relived they didn’t send us home with printers as they had said at first!

    Reply
  8. Mum of One says

    April 18, 2014 at 12:28 pm

    You are a far braver woman than me. I completely get the fear. My son is now three and I have yet to attempt even a bus or train with him. We walk…everywhere. Kinda limits our scope though.

    Reply
  9. Actually Mummy... says

    April 18, 2014 at 12:52 pm

    Lol Jane you’re on form today. Every mother has escalator fear 🙂

    Reply
  10. Donna @ The Rose Diaries says

    April 18, 2014 at 1:08 pm

    My god daughter has a total fear of escalators, so I guessed half way through this that you were not a fan. I cannot imagine trying to do it with a buggy. You are a braver woman than I.

    Reply
  11. Mary Keynko says

    April 18, 2014 at 6:34 pm

    Oh Dear – I love the escalators, a chance to stand still ad people watch – but it’s a long time since I had to negotiate them with little ones? I think that’s why we used to work so far in London!

    Reply
  12. Emma says

    April 19, 2014 at 8:05 am

    So glad you survived… They are a nightmare aren’t they? I remember falling up one after a night out after work. My coat got sucked in and I thought it was the end… I bet I am on youtube somewhere!! 😀

    Reply
  13. teawithonesugarplease says

    April 19, 2014 at 11:26 am

    You made it – and the kids are getting savvy with public transport! I’m so glad I no longer have a buggy to push now my 3 are older. It was the worse thing ever getting up/down laden down with bags.

    Reply
  14. Lauranne says

    April 25, 2014 at 12:37 pm

    It’s shocking how few lifts they are!! I hate going down the escalators and I don’t have children or buggies to worry about!

    Reply

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Jane is a working Mum of three and has great hair. One of these things may not be true.

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