Temper Tantrums

Dearest Husband,

Next time you run out of the kitchen door in a hurry to get to work and knock over the food recycling bin, CATCH A LATER TRAIN. Waking up to yesterday’s rice crispies, fish fingers, beans AND oven chips all over the floor is not the most pleasant thing to view first thing in the morning. Little Charlotte told me off for cursing you and then saw that I was not impressed by your behaviour and helped me clear up the mess.  She is three, you are thirty eight – please grow a brain.

I love Vanessa Feltz. She is a strong, assertive woman that can certainly stand on her own two feet. I love the way that she speaks her mind so fluently and puts politicians and other idiots in their rightful place. She uses the English language so wonderfully and corrects people if they don’t speak correctly.  We have also seen Vanessa wear her heart on her sleeve. She is a real woman. I rarely get the opportunity to listen to her show on BBC London Radio. Last time I tuned in, the topic was Buggy Wars! Oh how I wish that I could have telephoned in for a rant! Yes, why do Mums feel the need to buy a pram that is more expensive than a second hand car?  It is ridiculous. The baby is only in the thing for no more than six months. Does it matter if you spend £1000 or £100? The viewers of BBC London think not. Though people were generally happy with their purchases, there seems to be no difference whatsoever apart from the designer name. I lost my business and income whilst pregnant so was absolutely skint when Charlotte came along. People were so kind and generous and I did not give two monkeys that I inherited a pram that was not the latest brand and was a little bit bulky and hard to fold. However, I could buy a McLarens when Charlotte was four months old and it was the best baby purchase that I made.  If you spend a small fortune on the pram, you cannot then justify purchasing a perfect and reasonably priced buggy when you really need one and that is something that is absolutely essential during the pre-school years.

Charlotte and I had our first major ruck! She is three but I know for sure with her red hair and temper to match that this is the first fight of many. I screamed at her. Super Nanny and all the text books tell you never to shout, but to look at your child in the eye and talk in a slightly raised and assertive voice. Well that does not work when I am trying to leave home at 8am to be at work on time.  My best tactic to date is my “Mummy Monster” voice which is a bit like warning that the incredible hulk is about to turn green and get very big and scary but sometimes she drives me totally up the wall and I have no time to get a grip of the situation. So this particular day when she was being a little sod, I had a real hissy fit and ran down the stairs to calm down. She cried and cried. After about five minutes, I went up for a cuddle. She looked at me, walked to the door and promptly slammed it in my face. Oh the passion of it. I look forward to many more such tender moments. 

Thought of the day: When I have had the menopause, I will change the name of my blog to the Final Countdown.