Half Term Hangovers Are My Idea of Heaven

Thursday 3^rd March

It must be the aftermath of half term but the indoor play was quiet today.  Very, very quiet.  I am used to going to indoor play areas to mix with spoilt children left to run around whilst their mother’s drink their coffee and talk manicures. 

Because of my attention being put solely onto my son rather than keeping a keen eye out for a maniacal toddler wielding a stick I got to see my son’s first in two things – jumping off a little step and  sliding down the big boy slide.  Thank goodness for half term’s hangover.

The True Sadness of Playground Politics

Tuesday 1^st March

My eldest is in Year 1 at school and already I have noticed there is exclusion, segregation and isolation and I wish this was from the children.  This I can excuse.  This I can fix. 

Today I came home crying from the school playground.  No one was nasty to me, but no one came to talk to me either.  At one point my youngest who is obsessed with babies went over to another Year 1 mum to look into her pram and I overheard her talking to another mum about rearranging the girly night as no one could make it.  Had my emails been mislaid?  Had my phone not worked properly?  No, this is the second clicky group who has arranged a mum’s evening without me.

Don’t get me wrong, some of the mums really like me and I have even had a night out with a couple once or twice.  But as my husband always says I am marmite.  I am outspoken, honest and share my feelings with others.  I am NOT nasty, bitchy, rude or hateful behind people’s backs.  I make the mistake of showing my true self. I do not put up fronts, smile inanely and make small talk about makeup, the weather or show business.

And for this I am persecuted.  I have learnt over the years that shallowness makes for good acquaintances.  Do I sacrifice myself to be liked or do I carry on being who I am, risking no invitation to an inane evening of coffee and bitching.  I know the answer is to stay true to myself.  But just once I would like to be liked for who I am, not who people want me to be.

The Half Term House ... AKA: Bedlam, Harassment and a Jeans model posing as an Area Manager

Monday 21^st February

Day 1 in the Half Term House:

My eldest starts his 3 day tennis marathon which of course means drizzly weather. During his attempts to become the next Fred Perry I dragged my youngest son to the playground for a meeting. 

Now at this point you wouldn’t think that a jeans model would turn up for the meeting pretending to be an Area Manager of some playground equipment company so obviously I didn’t have any make up on showing all my blotchy skin, the rain helped my hair look as frizzy as possible and my youngest made it very clear he wanted to jump in every cold puddle going with shoes on.

So by the time the jeans model arrived I was looking very radiant indeed.  Bastard!  Try having a meeting with George Clooney after a fight with your beauty regime which you will lose and feel good about yourself.

On the plus side I was forced to walk in drizzle forever to get my youngest to sleep which was great for my glutes.

Tuesday 22^nd February

Day 2 in the Half Term House:

Drizzling again, obviously due to it being half term and my eldest insisting on playing a whole morning of tennis.

In the afternoon I ventured out to M&S to get some food.  Being half term I was amongst good company of harassed mums and screaming children. 

Normally I am smug mother as my youngest will sit happily in the trolley pointing at the items.  But not today.  Today he insisted on walking whilst “helping” me by picking up every glass jar he could find.  My talent to inhale swiftly was at it peak.

At the checkout, after loading all the bags and feeling immensely harassed, it appeared I had forgotten my credit card and all other payment so had to go home empty handed and very embarrassed.  It gave me the chance to cry all the way home and my husband was very sympathetic and kind, “that was stupid!” he said.  My love for him multiplied as I slammed the phone down.

Wednesday 23^rd February

Day 3 in the Half Term House:

Would I surprise you in that it rained a lot.

My eldest insisted on playing again today making him drenched but very happy.

I think I am a masochist as I decided to go to Tesco’s.  Fortunately my youngest son was on his medium behaviour only tantruming when I wouldn’t let him throw glass items into the trolley but at least he didn’t refuse to get out and run around knocking everything off the shelves.  A bonus.

The afternoon was spent in the RAF Museum running after the kids telling them not to run and feeling a sense of comradery with the other mums who too looked grateful that it was half the week over with.

Thursday 24^th February

Day 4 in the Half Term House:

The rain has stopped and it is sunny outside.  So obviously this meant my eldest insisted on going to an indoor play.  On the plus side the weather made the indoor play very busy rather than extraordinarily busy so you only had to push past fifty children to get what you want rather than sixty.

The afternoon was taken up in the park pushing a tricycle, watching my eldest forget how to ride a bike and look into the dead eyes of all the other mothers who had endured four days of “endless fun”.

Friday 25^th February

Day 5 in the Half Term House:

I cannot contain my excitement.  My husband has taken the day off so I am officially no longer dead mum walking. 

We have asked the kids what they want to do and they have insisted on Woburn Safari Park.  A place with about 3 animals and lots of mole hills and for the cheap sum of only £40.

My husband kept reminding me that although it is outrageously expensive, in need of some refurbishing and perhaps another animal or twenty it was worth it to see the children’s faces.

You can tell he has had a break from the kids for a week!

On the plus side even he noticed the harassed mums pointing out that you could tell the mums on their own this week as they looked as though they had lost their souls.

Thank goodness the week is over and it’s back to normality next week.

Cake Sales and Weather Woos

Friday 18^th February

Today was my son’s class Cake Sale which in true English fashion is held on the coldest day outdoors, it was a wonder it didn’t rain.  I was very excited to show off my baking skills so in true Slummy Mummy fashion I shopped for some lovely goodies which I then passed off as my own.  I had no guilt as I was not alone in this although the mums in the class priced everything as though it were from Fortnum & Mason rather than the local supermarket.  Despite this the stand was heaving thanks to the mum no one likes who did actually bake some amazing cup cakes.  I really don’t like her!

Saturday 19^th February

In true half term tradition, the week has started off cold and rainy and this is likely to last another four days at least.  Thank goodness.  I was worried that the sun might actually show its face allowing some fresh air time rather than reconstituted air from the inside of my house.  If winter goes on much longer I’ll start to believe I am in a Scandinavian country rather than Blighty.

My bloody Valentine, Overdosing on Carotene and My War with Alpha Females

Thursday 10^th February

My weekly trip to the disease-infested indoor play is a great place to learn how not to parent your children or socialise with other human beings.  This week the other mothers where getting very annoyed with me for bumping their bumper cars on the slow bumper car ride.  I assumed the object of the game was to do what it said on the tin, but I am invariably wrong.

Due to over-ordering carrots on an online supermarket shop I have made sure my children get their weekly dose of carotene in a single meal.  They loved the extra dose of carrots which I was immensely smug about until my children did their usual bedtime routine of running around like nutters until my youngest decorated my bedroom carpet, bedsheets and side table with vomit induced orange with a hint of pink.  At least the smell was awful!

Saturday 12^th Feb

Going to children’s birthday parties are a similar experience to soft plays.  A social experiment where the alpha females rule.  I was fortunate enough to attend such a party where the more competitive mums wearing their designer clothes, designer make-up and designer bling were at their most fertile.  There was a lot of puffing up of chests (presumably paid for by their husbands) and squinting eyes observing their territory.  It was a lovely experience being blatantly ignored.  I knew I should have looked less like a mother and more like a catwalk model.

The day did improve with my husband taking me to a lovely Japanese restaurant in Hampstead followed by the best crepe this side of London.

To complete the evening my youngest decided not to sleep for most of the night, preferring to call me into his room on an hourly basis.  I didn’t mind, I was drunk.

Sunday 13^th February

Whilst my husband and oldest son went off to play rugby I decided to be the dutiful wife and make a large Sunday roast.  This is not an easy task with a two stone child clinging to your hip, but I successfully managed it allowing me lots of praise and the promise of a relaxing afternoon.

I’m not sure which afternoon my husband was referring to or if he understands the word “relaxing” as shopping for bulk items in a warehouse with two children is not particularly restful.  But at least the items were essential like sandwhich bags and toothbrush heads!

Monday 14^th February (Valentine’s Day)

It is traditional in our house to celebrate Valentine’s Day whilst at the same time dismissing it and calling it a waste of money.  We believe this way we are justified in our actions.

Tonight was no exception with a beautiful meal laid on by my good self for my husband consisting of asparagus, large mushrooms, an entire garlic farm and steak, rare of course.  This was followed by a horror movie.  It was a great evening.

Wednesday 16^th February

I’m sure glass shelves in fridges (especially ridiculously expensive ones) are toughened and therefore unbreakable.  Well I was sure until the middle shelf decided to shatter all over the inside of the fridge today causing chaos and a little bit of swearing. 

Word of advice, try to break glass when the kids are asleep, they do enjoy walking in broken glass and eating bits off the floor if you’d let them.  Instead I enjoyed a full on tantrum because I wouldn’t allow him to play with the shiny pieces on the floor.  Now I’ve got to trawl the internet for the exact same dangerous shelf so that I can clear up the mess in another few months.