Yesterday was a big day for Mummy Bloggers – several of us got a shout out and interview on Radio 4 Womans Hour. That’s a big deal. Mombloggersclub was on twitter last night exclaiming that Mum Bloggers must be in the news as the site suddenly had a load of traffic – so the news even travelled across the pond to the States.
Closer to home there was a lot of good will and love going out on twitter with tweets backing all the bloggers who were going to be on the show – I suppose you could call it a tweet-in! And while everyone is still riding high on the wave of Cybermummy, it’s hard not to feel that this phenomenon is now a movement that is gathering pace and volume and there are very exciting times ahead.
So what exactly does go through the mind of a Mummy blogger when she’s asked to come in and chat to with Jane Garvey? She being the presenter of Womans Hour, the great British institution on Radio 4, and the voice that fills my kitchen as I sit at my round white kitchen table and write.
I’m going to tell you and it’s not that pretty.
Maybe I should have been thinking the usual stuff that us civilians think when we abscond from our mundane reality and end up almost by accident on a high profile mainstream medium like the news; I’m going to be famous, even for just a few minutes?! How amazing! I can’t believe my luck! And of course, I really should have had my considered (and grown up) thoughts of – Oh, what a great example of the happy marriage of new and old media this is going to be, I am going to relish this.
Well, to be honest, a bit of both was going on, but as 10am drew near and I fidgeted nervously in the studio chair, there was a completely different story going on inside my head.
In times of stress, random thoughts fleet across my mind like clouds in a blue sky; serenity has become interrrupted and I am at the mercy of my inner musings (which from time to time escape from my mouth at largely in appropriate moments).
With around 90 seconds to go until the show started, I found myself tangled up inside, and it went something like this;
‘OOh I love her shoes, she’s tiny, friendly. Her hair is really shiny – really, really shiny’
‘This really reminds me of that funny scene in the Thick of It when both parties raid the radio station – was that meant to be the BBC – think of something normal now, focus – whatever you do don’t laugh’
My eyes wander around the room, and I’m jittery. Still these thoughts come thick and fast. I’m now frozen, still as a statue.
‘Better not keep scratching my head, they might think I’ve got nits’
‘How many famous people have sat in this seat? Loads I bet’
‘It’s like being on telly – of course it’s not you idiot, it’s like being on the radio you der’
I cough to clear my throat. It’s getting a bit dry, the studio is a bit warm. It’s nearly time to go out live on air – the thought strikes me that there will be no barrier between me opening my mouth and my words arriving in someone’s house. It is live. Oh.
‘Nearly time to go live on air, how wrong can this go right?’ I’m going to sound like an airhead. Perhaps I should have written some notes – but then I would be shuffling them now and annoying Jen (the Cybermummy founder).’
I daren’t look at Jen in case I get the giggles – I am such a bloody kid – ‘Why can’t I be sophisticated like her?
It’s just impossible for me to be grown up for a minute.’
I begin to resign myself to fluffing up the whole thing. Until I realise there are now only seconds to go and the show intro is playing.
‘What if I choke/swear/fart/clam up or have an attack of screaming hysterics – or worse, all of it?’
‘Headphones, ummmm, maybe I should put them on, she’s got them on one ear, I bet I’ll drop them really loudly. It’s too late now.’
‘Try not to whistle down the mike (I always did that as a kid when we did pretend Top of the Pops at home’
‘Stop!’ my inner Prefect shouts: ‘Your mind is wandering!! – think b-l-o-g-s and b-l-o-g-g-i-n-g’
I start self-editing and near sensible thoughts return:
‘If she pronounces my blog name wrong will I correct her? What if I swear without realising – is there any security in the building – will they swoop on me an have me turfed out of Broadcasting House and banned for life?’
Shit it’s live…oh bums…no, of course I’m not nervous…it’s too late now anyway.
I am introduced; she pronounces my name perfectly, enunciates my blog title to perfection and I squeak,
And I say bums twice in the interview. Ho hum.
Listen for yourself here: