I realised I must be a proper mum when I got excited about taking five-month old Eliza along to see the Olympic Torch this week. It’s hardly like she’ll remember it, is it? But it seemed like a nice thing to do; plus it’s something to tell her about in years to come (hi, future baby).
The torch relay came up through the park, around the track in the Crystal Palace Athletics stadium and then up to the triangle. We were stood in the stadium; Alex and I had been watching the athletics on TV from there a few weekends ago, so it was funny to see lots of children using the long jump as a sandpit.
I had no idea who was holding the torch, we didn’t see much of it, it was over really quickly – but who cares? It was sunny, people were excited, everyone was having fun. I was there with some other mums and we went and sat with the babies in the park afterwards, which is exactly how I’d envisaged maternity leave, pre-bad weather.
Thinking about it. I must be one of only a handful of Londoners who seem to be vaguely excited about the Olympics – we have tickets to the athletics, and I think it’s fantastic that there’s something so positive going on in this city – but as my husband pointed out, it’s probably because I don’t have to face the daily public transport commute.