Robot wars

The other day I was awoken by a robot crawling across my head. Before I knew it said robot had got caught up in my hair and refused to let go of me. Of course, this was all courtesy of my 3 year old son who thought it was hilarious. Now I am hardly the world's cheeriest person in the morning at the best of times, but having a whirring robot stuck in a patch of hair almost to the roots was doing nothing to improve my demeanour. None of this was helped by the fact that I couldn't see the damn thing, so all my attempts to remove it only resulted in squeals of pain from me (plus some swearing needless to say) and peals of laughter from the young one.

My husband was on his way out the door to work and actually huffed and puffed at me because I expected some assistance! "Just cut it off" was his answer to my distress. After much yanking and impatience on both sides, accompanied by many threats as to what I was going to do to my son once I'd got the damn thing out, we finally managed to free one of the wheels from the entanglement of hair, but the other wheel was determined not to give up my hair at all. With the thought of having to walk around all day with the bloody heavy thing stuck to my head (had I been going to a wedding, I might have passed it off as a rather modern fascinator, but I wasn't and anyway, I hear they're out of fashion!), I gave in and let my husband cut it off. Off he went, job done. There I was with the residual pain in my head and a little less hair! A couple of days later and I'm almost ready to see the funny side ...but not quite!

By Mummy Dearest

Like a donkey!

I'll start by saying my husband and I sleep naked (just in case you were curious!).  The other morning as my husband got out of bed I noticed that his ego had not quite deflated.  Impressed by his good looks, I said "like a donkey!"  He was obviously still half asleep because he gave me a quizzical look.  "Hung like a donkey," I explained.  Just as a smile began to spread across his face, my daughter walks in and says "what donkey?"  We both looked at each other: "there might be a donkey at the farm we're going to today," we said in unison.  "Ooh, really?, " she said with obvious delight.  My husband also looked quite delighted.

By Mummy Dearest

Perfect mother, perfect wife?!

So, I started the day determined for it to be one of those days when I got it all right.  A rare breed indeed.  Following Tom Hodgkinson's idle parenting guidelines, while my husband went off to work, I let the kids play together in my daughter's room and I slept in till 10 am relatively blissfully, bar having to shout "shut it!" and "stop fighting or you're getting punished!" a few times over the monitor.  I find this sleeping in business makes for a much better mother over the course the day and I try to do it at least twice a week.  Whenever I can, I keep Tuesdays and Thursdays as pyjama days.  We lie in, take some time for cuddles in bed and perhaps a story or two, then I throw a tracksuit on, brush my teeth and it's time for brunch.  Anyway, I digress.  Having had my lie in, I got a couple of loads on, tidied up, fed the kids, cleaned up the aftermath and took them out to the park.  I even found time to unload the dish washer, wash the pots and prepare supper!

Needless to say, I was feeling rather pleased with myself and after having got the kids to bed at a decent hour too, managed to spend a relaxing evening on the sofa with the old hubby.  When we finally prised our asses off the sofa, I commented to him that for once I felt as though I had actually managed to be the perfect mother and the perfect wife for one day.  His response: "you would have been if you'd taken me to bed earlier and shagged me!"  There's no pleasing some people and while it may be possible to be the perfect wife and the perfect mother (it's not, but one can dream), one thing is for sure, it is impossible to be both those things on the same day.  Good, now that we've established that, I can stop trying and re-read the Idle Parent!

By Mummy Dearest

Sexy knickers!

I think my son is going to be to watch around the ladies when he's older.  The other night I'd been out to dinner and worn my favourite pair of sexy knickers.  God knows why I reserve these for nights out, because on the rare occasions we manage to muster enough energy and enthusiasm to go out, we inevitably come back too late and too shattered to put the said sexy knickers to good use.  However, as these outings are so rare and such an occasion, I get to wear these same knickers virtually every time.

The day after this evening out, my son, age 3 if you please, notices these knickers in the laundry and picking these black lacy, see-through numbers up, looks them over admiringly and says with much approval, "ooh, these very nice knickers mama."  

It's moments like these that make you smile and remind you that if nothing else, kids have a gift for making you laugh  ...and scream and cry in equal measures of course!

By Mummy Dearest

The 'flicker'...

Apparently, I'm now known to my friends' kids as the 'flicker'!  I wonder whether they have nightmares and wake up holding their ears?

I think I might try ear-flicking the dog next.  I tried counting to three with her today when she was being a bit defiant.  Can't say it worked.  Have to keep reminding myself that although she is our first born, she is actually a dog.

By Mummy Dearest

Ah, maybe I'm getting it right after all!

The other day I called a friend on her mobile and after a muffled response I worked out that she was probably at the cinema.  I mentioned this to the kids who were having their breakfast and my five year old daughter comes back with, "what's a cinema?"

Given our efforts to date to keep them away from the big box and the bigger screen for as long as possible ...definitely one of my proudest moments!  

By Mummy Dearest

Smug bastard

This afternoon my husband announces the kids are having an omelette for supper and I'm cooking it. "Why?"  asks my daughter.  My thoughts exactly as I sat back on the sofa reading my pile of ancient Sunday Times magazines which I was finally making some inroads with.  "Because we have to let mama think there are some things she makes better than dada does," came his reply.  "But you're a chef dada, I would think you'd know how to make an omelette.  You're supposed to know how to make everything," interjects my wise and wonderful daughter.  That put the smug bastard in his place!

Twenty minutes later, I promised to fix a new toy which my son had just received for Easter and had inadvertently broken.  This bearing in mind that a bag of toys and various other odds and ends which need mending or gluing has sat in my storeroom awaiting my attention for almost a year!  Anyway, this latest addition to my pile I intended to fix right away as it was a fairly simple job and the poor thing had only acquired it an hour earlier.  As usual my son brought me the offending item while I was trying to have a sneaky five minute read on the loo.  Normally I would have admonished him and sent him packing, but I couldn't resist the tears in his eyes and the quivering lip to boot.  I had to hug him and promise to fix it as soon as I was done.  Ah, there is a soft side to me after  all!

My five minutes up, I realise that it's late and I'm supposed to be preparing their supper, so I get stuck in.  "Hey!" I hear a tiny voice behind me say, "you meant to be fixing my stethoscope."  "Sorry my love, I got distracted."  "You always get distracted ....always, always," pipes up my daughter.  "Doesn't she dada, doesn't she?"  "Yes, she does" says their father sniggering gleefully.  The smug bastard gets even!

By Mummy Dearest

More on asses...

The other day I made the mistake of muttering to myself, in the presence of the kids, that the dog's breath smelt like she'd been licking her ass.  Later that day my husband comes downstairs having just put the kids to bed and says "what is up with those two?  They wouldn't stop jumping on our bed shouting 'lick my ass, lick my ass' like hyper-nutters."  "I don't know" said I, "they've been doing that all day."  Then the penny dropped ...aha!  Moral of the story ...watch what you say in front of the kids.

By Mummy Dearest

Old McDonalds going organic?

As I washed up this morning I overheard the kids playing another make believe game.  My 5 year old was saying to the 3 year old "come on we're going to Old McDonalds to get some chicken nuggets and we're going to get a present."  Unfortunately, this is the latest import from school.  Although our kids have never been to the dreaded McDonalds, they are still being influenced by the dratted little toys they give away to entice little children because they see their friends with them.  Come to think of it, McDonalds is really just like the witch's cottage in Hansel and Gretel!

Anyway, on hearing the kids mention the sacrilegious chicken nuggets, I asked "would you eat poo if someone offered you a little bit of plastic rubbish?"  "No, mama" came the answer.  So I proceeded to give them a cynical lesson about the world we live in and told them that the only reason they give plastic rubbish away to kids is to get them to back for more sugar and salt filled 'nuggets' and the reason they put so much salt and sugar in the 'nuggets' in the first place is so that little children get addicted to them and keep coming back for more and the only reason they any of this is to make money!  Having vented I turned to my daughter who said, "but mama they're home-made chicken nuggets and we're going to an organic McDonalds!"  What could I say to that but, "oh well, that's alright then."  If only!

By Mummy Dearest

Recipe for wonderfully easy breakfast muffins or tea cake

This recipe was given to me some time ago by a friend who in turn got it from who knows where.   Recently I've begun experimenting with it and it really is a great flexible recipe, so I've decided to share it.  For those of you who watch your consumption of animal fats and/or sugar, the good news is it has neither butter nor sugar in it.

It's the easiest recipe in the world, so here goes...

Ingredients

2 apples peeled and chopped (you could probably use pears or plums or bananas etc instead if you wanted to)

100 g dates (I recently used half raisins and half dates which worked very well)

225 g self-raising wholemeal flour (you can also use half self-raising white and half wholemeal if you want it a little lighter, but personally if I can avoid white flour I do)

1 teaspoon cinnamon

1 tablespoon lemon juice

zest of 1 lemon

125 ml plain yoghurt

2 eggs beaten

100 ml vegetable oil

 

Last time I made this I also added a handful of chopped walnuts and a handful of dessicated coconut.  If it's not sweet enough for you, you could add a tablespoon of honey, or sprinkle some brown sugar on the top in the last 5 mins of cooking.

Method

Place apple, dates (and/or raisins, coconut and walnuts), flour, cinnamon and lemon zest in a large bowl and mix well.  Mix beaten egg, yoghurt, oil and lemon juice (I whisk them altogether using a simple hand whisk or fork).   Pour wet ingredients into dry ones and mix together using a wooden spoon or spatula (no need for heavy kitchen machinery!).  

Pour into a grease proofed muffin tin or 20 cm cake tin and bake at 180C for 30 mins as muffins or 1 hour as a cake.  Check with a skewer through the middle to make sure they're / it's done.  Leave in the tin for about 5 mins and then turn onto a cooling rack.  Makes about 15 muffins or cake for 6-8 people.  

Happy baking!

By Mummy Dearest

Recommendation of the year!

Personally, I'm a telly addict.  Notwithstanding that, or perhaps because of that, I want to ensure that my kids do not follow suit.  I've been an avid TV viewer since I was around eight years old, if not before.  Although I did read a lot (at one point my life's ambition was to be a librarian, yes, it's true!), I was so addicted to the black box I even did my homework in front of it, though strangely ours was white at the time.

As a parent, I am determined my kids will have developed other interests long before they get sucked in and develop square eyes.  On the other hand, I do not want to deny them of it so completely that viewing it becomes an act of rebellion.  So, at the weekends or on sick days our kids are allowed to choose a dvd to watch from our small collection of vetted short animated series for kids such as Miffy, Charlie and Lola, or the most recent addition Shaun the Sheep.  The latter is my recommendation of the year.  It is by the makers of Wallace & Gromit and it is absolutely brilliant.  No silly voices to listen to, just great animation and wonderful characters getting up to all sorts of mischief.  It is truly a joy to watch and a great source of laughter and amusement for the whole family.  If you don't let your kids watch anything else, let them watch this.  You won't regret it  and it will help keep at bay the shite currently shown on various 'kids' channels.

For now at least, TV only goes on to air the aforementioned choice pieces, or perhaps a classic like the Wombles, Winnie the Pooh, or another recent favourite and their first full length film, The Jungle Book.   After that the evil box goes off again!

By Mummy Dearest

'Billicking' cord

My daughter has loved babies ever since I can remember.  She can't get enough of them or anything to do with them.  She jumps into friends' car-seats at the first opportunity, she hijacks pushchairs and acts like a mother hen around anyone even a fraction younger than herself.

When she was about 18 months old she began to take an interest in dolls.  We had been given a huge baby type doll by aunt.  It had been my cousin's when she was a girl and was probably almost as old as I was.  I actively encouraged her interest, as I was already 3 months pregnant with her brother and I thought this would help her understanding of my pregnancy and ward off any jealousy.  Well it worked.  She was good as gold and very loving when her brother came along.  She was smitten with him and loved cradling him in her arms whenever she could.

Since then, her interest in babies has not waned a bit, but now we've progressed to giving birth to them too.  Apparently she's had 101 babies already and I have been the mid-wife at most of these births!  The first was quite spectacular.  She suddenly announced that she had a baby in her tummy and it was coming now,  so I had to rush over to the sofa to attend the imminent birth.  She knew full well that babies come out of your 'nani', but this was the first time she'd simulated pushing an over-sized doll through it!  I told her to get on all fours on the sofa and I would pull as she pushed.  Then she said "ooh, I can see the legs," so I had to explain all about breech births while my husband rolled his eyes next door in the kitchen.  You'll be glad to know the baby survived its breech birth and my daughter has gone on to have many more successful births since then.

As is the way, with kids growing up, I'm less needed these days.  Nowadays, my mid-wifery skills are less in demand than they were because she is 'married' to her brother and he also gets to play the mid-wife.  The other day, after giving birth on the bathroom floor with my son in attendance of course, she proudly announced to me that her husband was such a good daddy he had even cut the 'billicking' cord!

By Mummy Dearest

The sweet smell of children

There is nothing more wonderful than a sleeping child.  Not least of all because it means they have finally shut-up and stopped asking endless questions!  However, the thing I love most about my sleeping kids is their unique smell ...a combination of sleepy breath, sweet sweat and farts.  I just love it!  I can't get enough of it.  Their rosy cheeks, soft skin and delightful scent all serve to remind you that there is something truly wonderful about being a mother   ...most of the time.  In fact, there's nothing better than giving a sleepy child a big kiss to remind ourselves it's all worthwhile.

The good old days

Before motherhood I would talk to myself frequently.  I've been caught out by my husband on several occasions.  He'd come back from nipping out to the newsagents while I waited in the car and catch me at it.  Apparently he could see my lips moving as he approached the car.  20:20 vision as he likes to remind his four-eyed wife.  He also seems to have some sort of supersonic hearing.  He's actually shouted to me to stop talking to myself in the bathroom upstairs, while he was in the kitchen of our then house downstairs.  I was taking precautions too, by whispering.  However, whenever I shouted down to him for something from upstairs he would be strangely deaf as a bloody post.

Anyway, I digress.  Just as I was beginning to blend in what with everyone else using hands free sets, I went and had kids.  Now I have no chance of a peaceful natter with myself because the instant I open my mouth one of the kids intervenes with a "what are you saying mama?"  "Nothing," I reply, "I'm just talking to myself."  "But what are you saying?"  "None of your bloody beeswax," I retort.  "Can't I just talk to myself in peace?"  "No, we want to know what you're saying."  And so I have to explain what I've been saying and why, which takes all the damn fun out of it.

Well, got to dash.  I have to rescue the kids from a giant who has just gone upstairs carrying a torch and shouting Fee, Fi, Fo, Fum while the kids play hide and seek.

By Mummy Dearest

Smacking? Try ear-flicking!

Back in January, my friend Scooterlassie pointed out an article from the English Sunday Times quoting a study which showed that smacking your kids up until the age of six might actually make them more successful teenagers.   I firmly believe that the UK has gone from one mad extreme - caning - to another - arresting parents for smacking their kids. Their policy has certainly done nothing to protect kids as we see from cases such as Baby P and numerous others over the years and while I'm not particularly in favour of smacking, I am not against it either. Everything in moderation is my motto and although I would prefer not to smack and I usually only resort to it out of frustration, I do believe that it sometimes has a place in disciplining one's kids. Yes, it is hypocritical to tell your kids that hitting is wrong and then turn round and whoop them yourselves, but there are also life lessons to be learnt from understanding why you have lashed out, particularly if you stop to discuss and explain your actions. Sometimes a short, sharp shock is also necessary. If you've tried reprimanding in your strictest voice, threatened punishments, counted to three and have been repeatedly ignored, or if the fact that your child is stubbornly ignoring you is putting them in imminent danger, then I find a good strong ear-flick works wonders. It even meets the UK guidelines as it doesn't usually leave any lasting red marks and while admittedly it does hurt like hell (I have tried this on myself and my husband!), the pain dissipates as quickly as it arrived. No lasting physical damage at least! Other benefits are that it is very discrete and when delivering one of these in public, it is very hard for people to understand what you've just done. The only real evidence that you have indeed done something is the immediate reaction of the child - obedience, particularly if another flick is threatened!

Now some of you will no doubt be horrified and some, like a friend I mentioned this to recently, will be accusing me of child abuse. However, all I can say is that I love my kids enormously and the brighter your kids are, the more they need and respect discipline. They get plenty of cuddles and kisses and positive physical contact to counteract a smack or an ear-flick here and there. Also, they (almost) always get warned that the ear-flick is coming and most importantly, I do my best to explain my actions and reactions. Given my friend's admonishments when I told her about my ear-flicking habits, I even discussed this with my kids. They actually said they preferred smacking to ear-flicking which I thought was a bit mad, but perhaps it has to do with the fact that they get smacked less than they get ear-flicked! I did say I would try and do less ear-flicking, so the other day when I threatened to flick my daughter's ear for something (probably bossing her brother around as usual) she said "I thought you weren't going to flick our ears anymore!" To which I replied, "well I've decided that it's not that bad and if you don't like it then I suggest you don't do it to your kids." "Ok," she replied and happily carried on with her game. I feel this is fair enough. Just the way I have banned face-slapping in our house because my mother used to do it to me and I hated it with a passion, I feel my kids can make that same judgement when they have kids. If they feel ear-flicking is a step too far, then they can find another solution which suits them better. Having my face slapped did not scar me physically or psychologically (at least I don't think so!) and it is not something that happened often, but it is something I remember disliking intensely and so I have decided to break that pattern and not repeat it. I think my kids are intelligent and well-rounded enough to judge for themselves and make similar decisions when the time comes. In the meantime, I see plenty of kids who get less discipline than mine and who are far rougher when playing with other kids. Granted mine beat each other up on a regular basis, but at least they do not beat up other people's kids even when they have on occasion been hit by other kids themselves. Rather than retaliate, they come to me and tell me what the offending child has done ....perhaps in the hope that I will teach them a lesson with a jolly good ear-flicking! Bad mother? Only time will tell. In the meantime, whenever my son has been caught misbehaving he quickly covers his ears with his hands and gives me a cheeky grin, so occasionally I have to go for his nose instead!

By Mummy Dearest

The phrase I use most often since I've had kids...

 ....God give me patience!  I specifically asked for more patience for Xmas, but none was forthcoming.  Oh well, maybe next year.

By Mummy Dearest

Bad mother?

This morning my kids and I didn't eat breakfast till 11.30am.  They spent some time playing individually in their rooms, then some more time playing together while we slept in.  We even managed to fit in a cheeky shag!  My husband then got ready for work while the kids got into bed with me to 'spoon' and cuddle.  When I suggested we go down to get some breakfast, my daughter said "no! not yet."  I said "aren't you hungry?  Some people would think I was a very bad mother for not having fed you two yet."  "I'm not that hungry, I'm enjoying chatting in bed," she replied.  "Ok," I said, "five more minutes, but don't you dare tell your grandmother what time we had breakfast!"

By Mummy Dearest

Once an ass, always an ass!

When my daughter was little I used to refer to her backside as her 'tata'.  However, one fine day my husband called it an 'ass' and it stuck.  Much as I at first tried to stick to the original designated term (bearing in mind that I'm living in a fairly conservative Catholic country and my daughter might well have ended up being schooled by nuns, I thought it best to avoid what might be considered brash language on a 5 year old), ever since then it has been referred to as an 'ass'.

Now four or five years later, I have embraced the term and go out of my way to incorporate it into my daily banter with the kids.  The challenge is to insert it where it's least expected ..if you want them to fall about laughing that is.  For example, my daughter announces out of the blue in the middle of eating her supper  "I'm hot, I'm hot, I'm feeling hot" like the sky is going to fall in if the situation is not resolved immediately.  My response might be "you know what's hot?  My ass is hot" or "you know what's going to feel hot? Your ass when I've whooped it."  If I say this to my 3 year old son, his response is usually "whoop it mama, whoop it" ...even if his is the ass in question!  A bigger challenge is "I'm feeling cold, I'm feeling cold".  Again usually in the middle of a meal when hands are dirty and resolving temperature issues entails cleaning hands and dressing or undressing kids in the middle of trying to cook or eat one's own meal.  As I began my response to this latest challenge with the usual "you know what's going to feel ...cold? (husband and kids were already giggling in anticipation of how I was going to incorporate the word 'ass') ...the ice pack you're going to need to put on your ass after I've whooped it!"

As you may have gathered, 'ass whoopings', as well as 'asses' in general are another great theme in our household, but don't worry, they hardly ever get any!

By the way, my husband also found a great way of bringing 'ass' into the conversation the other day.  Pointing at one of the (now shrivelled up) balloons the kids had brought home from a birthday party several weeks before, he announced proudly "look, it's mama's ass!"  Cheeky sod!!

By Mummy Dearest

Prison showers

At first I just thought we were cruel parents rushing our kids through one of the best parts of the day and robbing them of their much loved baths.  However, the little nutters love them.  We stand them up against the back wall of the shower and shout "arms up in the name of the law!"  Then they start giggling as they put their arms up and down fast, simultaneously loving the idea of having their underarms tickled, while doing their best to avoid it and squealing "do it again, again."  Then we shout "spread 'em!" as we get ready for the big rinse.  What this is doing to them psychologically only time will tell, but they're certainly have a laugh now!

This evening after their prison shower, my daughter said with her usual the sky's going to fall in if I don't get what I need now urgency "I'm thirsty, I'm thirsty."   So my husband, the wind up merchant that he is, said "open your mouth" and then made as though he was going to spit into it.  My daughter squealed half in horror, half in delight and holding her head in her hands said through a big cheeky grin, "I can't believe I said they were such good parents [pregnant pause], it turns out they're not  ...they're horrors!"  Peals of laughter all round.

Good family fun.  Makes you proud, doesn't it?!

By Mummy Dearest

No shit!

I don't know how I forgot to mention this on my top ten worst things about having kids because it is right up there!  Going to the loo on your own.  To put it crudely, as soon as you have kids you can forget ever taking a shit in peace again.  And let's face it this is the only time you now have left to read anything, so it's a double whammy!  No matter how many times I tell them to leave me alone to enjoy a much needed bit of me time, they always find some excuse to interrupt me.  My ass only has to hover over the toilet bowl before they've either barged in with a question that couldn't possibly have waited 10 mins, or they suddenly absolutely have to poo right now themselves, or they decide to fight outside the door, so that I end up screaming at them to "shut it", obviously completely crushing any hope of relaxation!  Whoever thought that one could miss the most basic of functions so much?!    

By Mummy Dearest

Sodding end!

This morning I said to my daughter "you're the sodding end," as she wound her brother up for the zillionth time.  "I like being a sodding end" came the reply!  This last comment to be topped only by her one the other day.  She had climbed into bed with me for a cuddle in the morning and I was complaining bitterly about her freezing cold feet seeking out my warm toastie body, when she had the cheek to say "just stop whining and cuddle me mama!"  Perfect bloody little parrot!!  

Turning kids into ourselves ...oh no!

You know too much of yourself is rubbing off on your kids when while driving an imaginary car at the playground your four year old daughter shouts out of her imaginary car window "it was my right of way you cow".  When I tried to berate her she said, "I'm only pretending mama, it's OK if I'm only pretending isn't it?"  I've realised that parenting is an interesting balance between trying to create perfect clones of yourself and trying to ensure that your kids turn out nothing like you!  I am currently trying to train my kids military style to be on time for school and naps.  As I mentioned in my top 10, what I have in mind is the Sound of Music ...before Julie Andrews turned up and ruined it all.  I can frequently be heard reminding my children that when we're in a hurry all I want is silence and obedience!   The reason being purely due to my own shortcomings.  As women we are supposed to be great at multitasking, but I find that post-kids I am unable to operate with their incessant noise in the background.  In fact, I seem to need complete silence to achieve anything  ...and this is not withstanding having trained myself to do my homework in front of TV (I actually convinced my poor deluded mother that I worked better that way!)  Can you believe she fell for that?  I can't.  In hindsight, I obviously realise that the reason I was often up till midnight doing my homework is because I was so utterly distracted by the TV.  How my mother did not realise this is beyond me.  But I digress.  So the reason I insist on silence and obedience is that if I don't I will invariably forget what I'm meant to be doing and leave half the things I need behind me.  Unfortunately, I almost never get the 'Silence' and 'Obedience' I so desperately crave, so I'm reduced to a neurotic shouting mess every school morning, undoubtedly leaving the neighbours with a very bad impression of my parenting skills!

By Mummy Dearest

My top ten

After the New Year it's practically obligatory to have a top ten list, so here's mine...

The top 10 worst things about children:

1. The NOISE!  Oh God the noise.  This has been without a doubt the hardest thing for me to contend with when it comes to motherhood.  Particularly in the mornings.  I have never been a morning person and have tried my damnedest to convince my kids not to talk to me first thing in the morning, but to no avail.  When I tell them "I'm still asleep", they say, "but your eyes are open"!  It feels like I spend half my life "ssshing" them, so it's a wonder they are so articulate and chatty.  I will always wonder why God did not see fit to include a mute button when he invented children.
   
2. Having to repeat myself 50 times a day.  I often feel as though I'm going prematurely senile!
   
3. The way kids seem fascinated by the bottoms of their shoes and insist on touching them no matter how many bloody times you tell them not to.  And talking of shoes, how kids invariably put their shoes on the wrong feet every single time, no matter how many times you tell them to simply put them on the opposite way to whichever way they think is the right way.
   
4. Touching cars.  Why is it that kids seem to to love trailing their hands along filthy cars?!  We recently went out for a pizza with friends to celebrate my daughter's birthday.  Having been the embodiment of patient perfect motherhood, holding back on my natural tendency towards authoritarianism and actually letting a few things slid, I blew up just as we got to the car to leave.  Having held everything in all day, I faltered and let rip when my daughter seemed to purposely trail her had and the cuff of her just washed cream sheepskin coat along the side of my filthy car.  I shouted, no bellowed, at her so loudly that my husband jumped and innocent passers-by stopped in their tracks.  My husband and I then proceeded to argue over the admonishment for most of the journey home, setting another great example for our kids in the obstacle course that is parenthood.
5. The infighting.  My 5 year old is bossy and anal, and likes things done 'just so' ...a little like her mother.  My 3 year old has a screech from hell, something like a pneumatic drill.  They are both wind-up merchants, so squabbling is a frequent occurrence and drives me mental ...more noise!  
6. The way they pick their noses and then show you the offending object before gleefully and proudly popping it into their mouths!  It makes my skin crawl.
7. The incessant "whys?"  I know it's a sign of an intelligent and inquisitive mind and I should be grateful, but when it makes it impossible to enjoy a bit of music in the car because my son is asking me why the man we just passed is on his phone and who he's talking and where he's going and why he's going there ...I sometimes despair.  My husband says this is simply my punishment for asking so many damned questions myself.
8. Dirty clothes. My son has a knack of getting every item of clothing dirty at mealtimes, no matter how many bibs or aprons I make him wear, or how far up I roll his sleeves.  The other day he was eating a lamb chop when he decided to show me an little 'ouch' on his elbow.  Needless to say, he did this with the lamp chop in his hand and managed to get it all over the shoulder of his wool 'hand wash only' cardigan. 
9. Volume control.  Now you would think that if God was going to be so hard on parents as to not provide a mute button, he would at least provide volume control.  But no!  Kids seem to be clueless when it comes to controlling the level of their voices.  They switch from a great whisper to top volume in a heartbeat, just as you were beginning to think they'd cracked it. 
10. School mornings.  Not being a natural morning person, I find these particularly trying.  I have tried time and time again to explain that there is no time for never-ending questions, chit chat or general dilly dallying, but to no avail.  You see what I would like on school mornings is the 'Sound of Music' ...before Julie Andrews turned up and ruined it all!  I want military precision, but instead I tend to get Hogan's Heroes. 

The top 10 best things about kids:

1. The blissful look they have on their faces as they sleep the sleep of innocence.  
   
2. The rosy cheeked do-eyed look they have when they first wake up.
   
3. Christmas morning.  The look of pure delight and wonder when they realise that Father Xmas really has been. 
   
4. Listening to them having a conversation together.  The questions, the answers!
5. Cuddles, hugs and kisses.  When they're not fighting they're the most affectionate little cuties ever.  There's nothing quite like the sort of unconditional bear hug you get from a small child who still thinks its parents are perfection personified, even though you frequently tell them you're not.
6. The natural hearty laugh of a kid who genuinely finds something hilarious  ...and it only takes a fart, a burp, or a tickle to have them in stitches!
7. The squeezeablity of those tiny bottoms.  I probably wouldn't be allowed to say this in the police state which has become the UK, but luckily I don't live there anymore!
8. The smell of a newborn.  Nothing beats it.
9. The way they are so forgiving  ..."oh mummy, you're the best mama in the world.  I wouldn't change you for any other mummy in the world."  Even when you feel you've had a particularly bad mother day.  Long may it last, but not much past puberty I reckon!
10. The sense of pride you feel when you look at the little creatures and remember that you actually played a large part in making them and they're magical.

By Mummy Dearest