EDDIE CATZ BLOG

These chairs are not for you

These chairs are not for you

They say that when you have a child your life completely changes. I’m not sure who THEY are but they could have given me a bit of warning about what happens when you have three!

But this article is about having multiple dependants, nor is it about who dramatically your life does shift after dropping bambinos, it’s about the little changes. It’s about the things you start to notice about society and people. These are another thing that THEY should have told you.

 

When I was pregnant with my first I was working in town and riding the daily commuter drudge. Every morning we bundled into a tube carriage like a Portsmouth shipping container full of asylum seekers.

 

I never really enjoyed this part of my day and to be honest the proximity of my fellow commuters made me wonder if I was impregnated in my marital bed or somewhere between Clapham North and Elephant and Castle.

 

Soon after seeing those faint blue lines for the first time I began to feel sick of the commute. Physically and actually sick.

 

It would literally take me twice as long to get to work as I’d constantly need to exit the carriage to puke on the platform or waiting gaggle of commuters all jostling for position before the tube doors open.

 

This is when I understood why women wear those Transport for London Baby on Board badges. I’d always assumed that women wore them as a sign that basically said “Pregnant not fat” but how wrong I was!

 

When you are suffering with morning sickness the best case scenario on a daily commute is a seat. It doesn’t have to be a nice one, it can even be one of the flip down ones that are irregularly close together, but a seat, that would be a start.

 

Some people are very committing, teenagers for example are whereas middle aged men will happily sit with their nose in a laptop.

 

The problem is that when you begin suffering with morning sickness your pregnancy isn’t common knowledge.

 

Personally I would prefer badges that explained my situation in a bit more detail.

 

Here’s a couple of ideas.

 

Please can I have a seat I might puke.

 

Early stages of pregnancy, suffering from morning sickness please let me sit down.

 

Work doesn’t know that I came back pregnant so I’ll be taking this badge off as soon as I get a seat. There’s someone from the office that gets on at Kennington so if I could sit down before then that’ll be great.

 

Just because you live in Morden and have the choice of seats doesn’t mean you can hog the priory ones all the way to Edgware. I’m pregnant and if I don’t sit where you are I might puke on you.

 

What is a Freedom pass freeloader doing on a commuter train? Embrace your retirement and let me have seat. Sorry I’m pregnant and that was the hormones talking.

 

The seat you are sitting on is not for you. As a pregnant woman I hereby lay my claim.

 

The thing is when you have baby and need to travel by public transport then begins a new war. The buggy space war.

 

This is when I really started to lose it with people. This is when the priority seats are not just seats, they are territory.

 

“This seat is not for you, it’s for me and my child not you and your spreadsheets.”

 

Don’t even get me started on people who use the elevators at train stations.

 

If you want an insight into the country’s laziest people then try out some of London’s step free access once and a while.

 

Courtesy Seating

A very yummy mummy

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