Tuesday, 21 June 2011

The children are our future... There is no hope.

Oh my days, it's actually Tuesday already. Time flies when you're having no fun whatsoever.

Yesterday was particularly boring and mundane. As are most Mondays. The sun did, however, make an appearence which is rare. Even though it's June. Of course I thought it would be a good idea to get my legs out. Short and shades on, I walked my darling daughter up to the park. You may think, sounds like a nice little day. So wrong. Halfway into town, the clouds emerge and the sun makes a disappearing act. I'm out in barely nothing, freezing, but I carry on like the soldier that I am. I nipped to the shop to get Grace some more pull ups as we'd run out and I'd had to put her in knickers until I'd got some more. She's a very clever child but my god, she is hopeless at this potty training business. I specifically told her "Do NOT wee in your knickers, I'll put some pull ups on once we get to the park." We walked into the entrance of the park and I hear "Oops" Giant face/palm moment. Two seconds before I was going to change her, she wees. Soaking her trousers and her pram. Again, remembering it is now pretty cold. After the 25 minute uphill walk to the park and my unusual optimism in ruins, we headed back home, defeated, without as much as even going on the slide.

Back home and drained of enthusiasm, I parked my bum on the couch to read a magazine, the weather not quite deciding what to do. Grace insisted on playing in the garden so off she went. I could hear her talking to herself, pretending to be a pirate, chasing insects and whatnot. Then silence. I peeked through the conservatory to see her emptying the paddling pool onto herself. She looked at me as if to say "Yeah? What's your problem?" and eventually I figured, as the parental figure, I should probably intervene. I brought her and her soaking wet clothes inside to dry off and my peace was shattered. After a couple more hours of throwing pasta across my carpet and throwing things out of drawers, I finally got her in the bath. She played "see how much bath water I can drink before mummy notices and tells me I'm a minger" and then I took her out and she asked for her dummy. Which is when I came up with this ingenious story.

First of all, I told her that a bee had taken her dummy. But she wasn't buying it so I decided to be a bit more inventive. She now believes that on her third birthday, a lady is going to come to the house with a box. She has to put her dummy in the box and the lady will take it away and look after it. That wasn't enough for me obviously so I carried on. The lady would then wait to make sure that Grace didn't need her dummy anymore and she would then give it to Father Christmas who would exchange it for presents. I was going to carry on, which would have involved the lady turning out to be Santa's mistress and them obliterating the dummy box with an AK-47 but then I remembered she is still only a child, and quite an impresionable one, so I should probably draw the line there.

This morning was the usual kerfuffle of getting her up for playschool. I managed to embarrass myself in front of everyone by asking about the sponsored "toddle" they're doing tomorrow. Infact, it's not until next week and I seemed to be the only one who hadn't read the leaflet properly, hence holding up a queue of mothers and children for no reason. I took a walk to the shop afterwards to buy myself some ibuprofen incase my nose starts playing up (the piercing obviously) Get to the till, putting my food in the bags when the woman stops scanning, holds up the ibuprofen and asks me for some ID. I was like, what the eff? But I showed it to her anyway, she still looked at me, slightly dubious. She was a right moody old bag anyway. I was pretty confused as to why I had been ID'd for some painkillers. Not like I was going to bother buying all that food if I was just going to go home and kill myself. But apparently I either look suicidal or I look younger than a 16 year old. Neither of which are extremely complimentary.

On the way home, I tried casually walking past a woman, only to bash my shopping on a post and she squeaked "Be careful!" to me. As if I just go round whacking my shopping off walls for the hell of it. So, after my third round of humiliation, I finally got home. Managed, somehow, to burn my breakfast because I was too busy watching the absolute crap on Jeremy Kyle and eventually went to go and get the kid from school. Most of the children came out with party invitations. Grace came out with no invitation but she told me she was a train. Not really surprised people are avoiding asking her to parties. Giant ball of crazy. After pretending she was a train for a good half an hour on the way home, even when it started raining and we were getting soaked, she still insisted on "stopping at the station" we did manage to make it back. That is when I made a massive mistake in having caeser salad for lunch instead of a beef and tomato Pot Noodle. Hmmph.

Anyway, totes rambled on enough now. Tonight is Spag bol and Cougar Town night. This really is my life. But you know, at least I'm not drinking away all my money Yeah, I'm talking about you, you filthy students ;)

Shuttup now Beck.


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