Tag Archives: mad moments of motherhood

A bit of a rant but is it really just me who feels this way?

Dear Emma,

Well, we’re crashing towards Christmas and it’s all set to be the season of discontent round here. I mean let’s face it, this month is the ultimate test of your parenting abilities or lack thereof.

And who the hell invented Christingle anyway, which in this family starts with the children pilfering any spare change before fighting over the candle and is followed by setting light to the kid in front’s hair with the flame before a quick trip to casualty after one of them has poked the other in the eye with the cocktail stick. And whoever thought playing “orange” bowling whilst waiting in A&E was going to be a good idea. What Christian message can I possibly extract from all that?untitled (42)

But that was last year and this month I surpassed myself by forgetting the service altogether and then collaborating with my beloved and coming up with an excessively elaborate lie about why we hadn’t taken them to the service.  You know when you’re pretend crying and faking a candle wax allergy, you may have taken things too far!

And then this week there’s:

  •  The first of the nativity plays (cue my child being the only child with, dare I admit it, a grubby tea towel on his head amidst the other bespoke nativity costumes but at least I didn’t, like previous years, induce a febrile convulsion in my child by over heating them in a sheep costume. And yes I say “first of the nativity plays” because I’ve got a total of 4 performances to sit through which is more than any parent should have to endure).
  • Christmas hat day (am I really going to be judged on my ability to read the school newsletter and digest this gem of a pain in the arse activity).
  • The school disco (oh that’s only 6 trips to the school in one day then as all my children have different disco slots and don’t get me started on the clothes).
  • The “take a home made decoration to school day” (why can’t they make that in school – I’m beginning to get hysterical!).
  • The make a Boomerang and a Didgeridoo day. Just don’t ask.
  • School open day (a complete cop out on the school’s part, when any self respecting parent is made to smile desperately at 22 meaningless school books and wonder why they can’t just give us an end of term report instead – that’s 45 minutes of my life I’ll never get back!)

December 2010 051

And how is it that, with only 10 days left of this long and agonising term, I’ve only just realised that my daughter doesn’t have any shoes, school socks or shirts and that my middle son has been wearing his sisters trousers to school for the last 10 weeks!

And they call this the season of good will and wonder why most mothers secretly slip into a gin bottle at the first reasonable opportunity. Bring back Scrooge – all is forgiven! Surely next week will be easier?

Hitting rock bottom

Dear Emma,

You know you’ve hit rock bottom when you find yourself greeting the wine section of your local shop like a long lost friend. And let me tell you, that it’s made worse when a senior member of staff from your child’s school and respected member of the community catch you in full blown conversation with that bottle of Sauvignon Blanc. I now know that there is no point, at that stage of trying to explain that it was in fact for later, when, at just after 9 am, they’ve heard you exclaim “oh thank god”.

Hello there!

Hello there!

And talking of rocks, this week I also learnt that taking 9 children and 2 dogs (one of which was on heat and without a lead) to the beach on the coldest day of the year, is not the cleverest idea, along with trying to drink coffee in the face of a strong prevailing wind or similarly allowing the children to take a sneaky pee in the face of it! A watery domino effect results, if you get my drift.

But looking on the bright side for a moment, at least the afternoon only resulted in one trip to casualty, no injury that could be really described as significant and as it turns out, she’ll be out of plaster in no time! As for the puppies, I remain quietly optimistic as to how that particular cross breed will turn out and comforted that this is one area of “sexual development” that I now won’t have to explain to the children.

But now dearest Emma I must run, as I have to appear before the school’s “Maintaining and enforcing appropriate parental standards committee” in an attempt to explain that my youngest’s interpretation of Sports Relief day, was born out of a genuine admiration for and desire to be, Usain Bolt. Although yes, perhaps with hindsight, the face paint was a step too far.

Really Hugo? Can't you just  go as David Beckam?

Really Hugo? Can’t you just go as David Beckam?

A week of very poor taste.

Dear Emma,

If you’ve never found yourself eyeball to eyeball with a small worm emerging from your child’s behind then, let me tell you, you’ve never truly scrapped the murky low points of motherhood. Thereafter follow days of itching, much studying of poo, washing and unprecedented housework.

The woman in the chemist was kind enough to tell me that it was nothing to do with the state of my home but of course she’s never been there. Suffice it to say, it is an image that I’m quite sure I will carry with me til the end of my days and please dear Emma, don’t make the naïve mistake I did, by assuming if you tell your fellow mothers about this addition to your family, that it wouldn’t affect your popularity. Coventry, I’m back but at least I can re acquaint myself with that long forgotten feeling of clean sheets.

Carrying on my theme of bad taste this month, it was I suspect a mistake to let my 6 year old have an IRA party for his birthday. Although to be fair to myself, that wasn’t exactly how we planned it but how was I to know that balaclavas were so the rage.

IRA or children's party - you decide

IRA or children’s party – you decide

All I can hope is that with the  jaunty addition of a trilby hat we may just get away with it.  I’ll let you know next week.

Finally I leave you with my conundrum of the week. On stepping on half a dead rodent when getting out of bed in the morning (brought in by the cat I hasten to add and not a domestic escapee) – what is the protocol – flush or window? Beloved Husband has taken what I consider an unreasonable dislike to being confronted with the headless torso of a mouse when he performs his morning ablutions. Did I do wrong?

Flood mayhem

It’s been a month of hard knocks.

A belated and soggy happy new year to you Emma dear. Did you survive the crisis of Christmas and live to tell the tale? It’s been a month of hard knocks here and so to save you from making the same mistakes as me, herewith are the lessons that I’ve learnt in the last 4 weeks…

Mad mother

Early morning storm damage should be viewed from inside

1. Never leave your house in the early morning to inspect the storm damage without first putting on a bra. Scooping your breasts up from your waist whilst trying to introduce yourself to your new (and handsome) neighbour is never going to create the impression you were hoping for.

2. When your husband tells you that there is no earthly chance of the house flooding, be disinclined to believe him.

3. Guinea pigs can out swim large dogs when highly motivated but the kitchen is not necessarily the best place to put this theory to the test.

4. Guinea pigs have nerves of steel.

Flooded kitchen

Beware the over optimistic husband

5. Never answer the doorbell without trousers on. I am too embarrassed to even begin to elaborate on this one other than to say it involved a secret agent and you should always check the size of a table decoration before ordering on line.

Flood mayhem

The name’s Bond.

6. When a mother from the school  with whom you have previously had little contact, unexpectedly turns up for coffee, you can be reasonably confident that the consensus at the school gate is that you are having a nervous breakdown. It’s unwise in these circumstances to let them see you sitting on the kitchen table in your wellies whilst surrounded by flood water, composing bad poetry and drinking brandy at 9am in the morning. Apparently this does nothing to alleviate their concern.

7. Your child wont thank you if you chase the school coach they are on especially if you’re waving their pants!

8. Sleepovers and flooded kitchens don’t mix. Some mothers appear not to understand the need for boots with pyjamas.

9. When your husband tells you that there is no earthly chance of the house flooding again, be disinclined to believe him. Brandy and a bucket are likely to be your best option at this stage.

10. With enough practice, it is possible to fire guinea pig food from a toy gun into a marooned cage without too much harm to said guineas.

Emma dear as the rain starts to fall again, I’m off to inflate my dinghy and put on my waders. Hoping it’s drier where you are.