For the last seven years, every year, we've held a small party to watch The Muppets Christmas Carol with friends. Today was Muppets day. Our first in Yorkshire, our first with our baby. It's a day that always surprises us with its quiet importance. Christmas Day itself is naturally a rather inward, immediate-family focused event. Muppets Day is about where we all are, looking outward to our closest friends, the people we've grown up with post-21.
Muppets 2009 was OMG Babies! Muppets. It was the first to have actual real-life babies in existence, and in attendance. Two little girls crawling through our tiny London flat. I was visibly pregnant, and conversation was dominated by babies real, incubating and planned.
The forever name for today, Muppets 2010, may turn out to be There Must Be A Better Way To Do This Muppets. As two little boys, William and Thomas, crawled through our tiny Yorkshire livingroom, Thomas's Mummy and I talked business. We agreed how impossible it is to imagine being pregnant again, with toddler in tow, in traditional 9 to 5.30 (or 8 to 6.30) employment. Explaining and re-explaining to some skeptical boss why Mummy had to leave early, or work from home again this morning, or take baby to the clinic. The crazed, time wasting animal that is the daily commute.
Thomas's Mummy thinks the only real option is to start her own business. But although I couldn't nod any harder, she talked in the same hushed, light tones as I do about my website (I still can't call it my business). Light as though to show that if a big gust of wind blew all her hopes and plans away, she wouldn't be surprised. Business Mummies it seems set out their stall, even to close friends, with a pre-emptive laugh at the small scale and ridiculousness of their ideas. It's a laugh I never heard in the same-y conference pitches echoing through a former life.