‘I think you are underestimating the importance of a perfectly timed forward roll.’

If there is one thing that I didn’t plan for whilst pregnant, it’s squeaky floorboards.

I was used to meandering from room to room, blissfully ignorant to the tremendous noise that each step would produce. Now, the moment Winnie closes her eyes, I enter stealth mode.

From the bed, through the door, along the hall and into the lounge.

Simple, right? Wrong.

At first, I couldn’t make sense of the patterns. It was almost as if there was no logic to the madness. And then one day, one particularly long day, I managed to creep out of the bedroom having put Winnie down, without making a single sound.

I was victorious.

Once I had reached the safety of our living room, I decided to mark out my route. I tested and tweaked it over the following week, but I just could not recreate the pattern. I felt deflated. Like an unsuccessful contestant on The Crystal Maze, I was destined to be locked in the bedroom for the duration of nap times.

I tried stepping. I tried leaping. I tried rolling. I tried everything. Each and every sequence I tried resulted in a grumpy, woken Winnie.

Until one day, I attempted something that no new mother should ever consider doing:

A forward roll. 

I can’t say I enjoyed it. I can’t say it was pleasant. I can’t say I didn’t wee a little bit. But it worked. I made it to the lounge. I made it to the sofa. I could have cried with joy!

And then I heard a phone ringing. A loud, vibrating, obnoxious phone ringing.

My phone, ringing. 

From the bedroom. From the bed.

Next to Winnie.

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