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Working Mum's Diary: Chene Koscielny

Posted by Julie Voyce on September 3, 2007 11:38 AM | 

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WE are in the last gasp of a terminally-ill summer with the end of the school holidays mercifully in sight. What better way to while away a few hours with activity-starved children than to head down to the leisure centre pool? Or so you would think.
I phone a fellow mum whom I suspect would be keen to step out from behind her ironing board and escape the constant nagging for attention, snacks and Cbeebies.
Let’s face it, when you’re a non-celebrity mum racing towards your forties, you don’t readily volunteer to parade around in your bathing suit in full public view.

But, being the selfless mums that we are, we agree to throw caution to the wind and inflict our less-than-perfect thighs, arms and derierres on the unsuspecting swimming public, for the sake of our children.
We agree to meet at our community leisure centre. This is where I met my friend, after sharing many a frustrating Friday afternoon watching our respective daughters inch one scoop forward and four scoops back in agonising swimming lessons over the past year.
Our little boys, both aged three, meanwhile, turned out to be kindred souls, and lay the foundations of a lifelong friendship by being as loud and offensive to everyone on the public gallery as humanly possible.
Back to the mildly sunny day last week when I step up to the reception desk to get some change for the parking meter.
I left my children outside in the car, where they were being circled by a traffic warden with a shark-like glint in his eyes. (And yes, I had my eye on the car – for all those holier-than-thou, I-would-never-have-left-them bores out there)
I am met by a non-smiling woman behind the counter, who answers my polite request for change because I plan to swim with my children with a bark: ‘How old are your children?”
When I say five and three, her eyes light up. “Sorry,” she swoons sweetly, “We can not allow you to swim today.”
The problem, she announces triumphantly, is that Lukas is under-four and needs one-on-one attention.
Calmly, at first, I try to explain that my daughter is a level-four