'You do you', the trainer at my gym says, as I manhandle an empty bar bell while all around me women are thrusting 75lbs above their heads. I do. I do me.
And Lady P, most of the time, does Lady P. I hope her resistance to peer pressure remains strong as her birthday approaches. Now she's at pre-school, it's quite the event.
For her sugar-free birthday celebration at school we have to make a board about her. The brief is a bit vague but TLOML told me the other day he saw one that had been framed. I also saw a sparkly one once. I have used felt-tip pens, stickers and photos on a white foamex board to create something I am proud of. And as I was making it, TLOML said 'One of the things I love about you is how you didn't change your plans when I told you about that framed wooden birthday board, you just stick to your guns because you don't care about impressing the other mums'. Which I think is known as damning with faint praise, but I'll take what I can get.
We are similarly resolute in our attempt not to impress anyone with Lady P's birthday party. Barring one, all the birthday parties her classmates have thrown so far have been big dos. Hosted at indoor play areas with inflatable slides, trampolines, and (my favourite) a brilliantly messy art materials, they involve 30 odd kids, pizza and cake, giveaway bags full of plastic toys that delight a toddler and last about five minutes. The whole shebang costs as much as a flight to London and I'm just not sure Lady P needs us to throw her such a party.
So we're shrugging off the tyranny of an almost-three year old's social life, and going with a very small party at home, at which we will open up her toy cupboard, serve some goldfish crackers and fairy cakes, and hope that Lady P thinks it's the best party ever. I have consulted her about it and all she seems to really care about is that the balloons are red. Which they are. So, we'll do us and hopefully everyone will have a jolly time.