Innocent Smoothie, not stuck (didn't use the tube today)

Playgrounds on Sundays are grim places. I felt lonely at a playground today. Amy played with her plastic golf set, and two Polish children soon invited themselves to join her game. This plastic golf set looks like it could be the best pocket money toy I've ever bought her. She likes it so much she won't even let me take a turn, this means I have to read the Sunday papers undisturbed in the sun. I had plenty of time to read the 'Escape' section article, '50 Best Family Days Out'. Instead I read the magazine.

I don't like plastic toy golf, so I don't mind that Amy just wants to practise by herself; but if I had joined in perhaps I'd have had less time to feel lonely when the Observer grew dull?

There were no couples in the playground today. Just solitary carers with children. A a clear display of Sunday self-sacrifice; playgrounds are no place for grown ups, the benches are uncomfortable and you sit for hours with no prospect of a cuppa. There's a glazed look in the eyes of most parents as they provide juice, and a weary tone when voices are raised for tickings off. I saw plenty of 'going through the motions' parenting today. Well, Sunday is a day of rest, and a playground is a good place to switch to auto-pilot. Your kids will be far too busy on the swings and slides to notice that you sometimes wish you didn't have them.

Sunday playground parents don't strike up conversations. A weekday mum with pre-school children will chat to other mums and share playgroup or potty training tips. They need the company, they need any help they can get with a 7 day a week, 24 hour a day 'lifestyle choice'. Well, it's not a 'job', is it? Most new mums are still keen to consider the benefits of socialising their child.

Sunday parents should chat, we obviously have so much in common. We must all be bored, we're all having a bad day because no more imaginative way to spend a Sunday was planned. A playground visit is always a 'need to get out of the house' trip, not a 'wouldn't it be fun to go to..?' one. It's a place to go when something gets broken, a temper snaps, or when a partner needs a break. Sometimes it can be a replacement activity when a more elaborate plan feels like too much stress.

Sunday parents don't talk to each other, instead we sit and read, or send texts, or stare into space apparently relaxed and enjoying the sun. If we chatted we'd have to reveal something about ourselves and our lives on a Sunday. We decide privacy can't hurt.

So this Sunday it was Fruitstock, the Innocent Smoothie free festival, which meant kid's activities, music, and all manner of fruit inspired summer fun. This was in Regents Park. I spent my Sunday on Tooting Common, at the playground.

Amy was happy today, so I suppose that makes me a good mum. I'm sure all the mums in the playground were good mums. I'm not so sure they were happy ones.