public relations

Impactful communications
with an Agile twist

I’m experiencing a Mother’s Day of two halves. I tap this column out whilst waiting at Newquay Airport for my (delayed) flight to Manchester.

I’ve recently picked up a teaching opportunity with an online education provider, which sometimes involves face-to-face teaching.

That teaching happens to be in Manchester, which I kinda like. It’s like London, but cooler and the people are friendlier. So tonight (if our plane manages to take off), I should be tucked up in a comfy bed in a posh hotel at Piccadilly Gardens.

It’s oddly a perfect Mother’s Day – a combination of kids and chaos this morning, and anticipated serenity this evening, if not a bit of work and reading. It perfectly spans my life of frazzled mummy and (attempted) professional, working woman.

So often my life imitates art – in particular a book that I grew up with as a child, Five Minutes’ Peace, by Jill Murphy.

It’s about an elephant called Mrs Large, who desperately tries to snatch five minutes of peace and quiet amidst Saturday morning madness. She attempts to escape to the bath, before being invaded by all three of her offspring.

Similarly, last night, I was attempting to relax in the bath with a glass of wine and a naughty peruse on Facebook. Bryher (aged three) marched in: “MUMMY – you mustn’t have your phone in the bath. It will get BROKEN”. Busted. Meanwhile Olivia was jumping off the top of her recently assembled bunk beds.

This morning, I was woken up at 5.45am by whispering as the girls colluded about bringing my presents and cards in. My presents, chosen by the girls but procured by the husband, consisted of a chocolate orange, a cuddly Little Miss Hug toy, plus a hand-made card and a picture.

They insisted the chocolate orange was tapped and unwrapped by 6.30am, which led to approximately another 30 minutes of lie in and YouTube on the iPad before the day began.

I then accompanied Olivia to her friend Henrietta’s roller rink birthday party, where I was the only mum brave enough to take advantage of the “Mums Go Free” offer. I escaped before the chicken nuggets and chips bun-fight, leaving the husband to police the ketchup portions.

I skipped out of the roller rink – dreaming of magazine purchases, coffee enjoyed whilst still hot, a night starfishing in the bed without wriggly toddler bottoms invading my space…

Yet I can guarantee that by tomorrow morning, my hotel room will seem all too quiet, I will have at least an hour to get ready without any interruptions or distractions. And I can guarantee I’ll miss those little monkeys and their associated chaos.

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