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The tale of the soft play saviours.

The tale of the soft play saviours.

We hadn't been out for a few days and my anxiety that the kids would kick off was at an all time high.
It took everything in my power not to cancel but alas we kept our soft play date.
Saturday afternoon and the place was crammed to the brightly coloured rafters.
There were no tables free, everyone was perched precariously with their much needed coffee on every available surface.
The kids were wild but contained in the ball pitt.
I hadn't really noticed that you had come to sit behind us. Until you were kind enough to make a fuss of the grizzly baby perched over my shoulder.
We exchanged polite small talk.
You told me about your baby ups and downs, that some of your children were all grown up.
Then it was time to leave.
The baby hadn't slept for hours, tea hadn't been made and the kids were showing signs of over tiredness. We were close to having a category one meltdown.
As I wrestled the knackered but refusing to sleep baby who hates getting his coat on and put in pram I felt myself getting panicky.
He was now screaming, a high pitched screech that penetrated your soul.
People began to turn around when wafting snacks, water and dummy did not silence the wailing banshee.
At the same time, the toddler has refused point blank to leave the ball pitt and was currently lying face down in it not moving an inch.
I had to leave the red faced crying baby flailing about in the pram whilst my friend tried to wrestle her two toddlers and quieten the baby as I dove into the ball pitt to remove my planking child.
He of course then began to scream.
I had two screaming children in the double buggy.
I was sweaty, panicked and wondering what the hell people thought of me as a mother.
Then a grandmother of someone lent over to me as I was beginning to develop an eye twitch and deafness and said the words that I am forever greatful for:
"You're doing a fab job".
I could have cried. I think I did abit.
We grabbed the rest of our stuff and you had watched everything and overheard me freaking out.
You said "do you know everyone here knows what you're going through". "It will get better".
We got buzzed out and on the way home I really thought about your kindness.
You didn't have to say anything.
But you did.
You saw a struggling mother of two young kids in a crowded soft play and then chose to speak kindness.
Your saw her cheeks were flush with embarrassment and you tried to calm her.
You made me feel normal.
That I would be okay.
This is for you, my soft play saviours.
Thank you from the bottom of my heart, I can only aspire to show kindness like you did today.


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