The Bad Mother Weekend.
Toni and Blair will, I’m sure, will be thrilled to hear that not only did I declare a No Computer Day on Saturday, but I became so enthralled with being a truly atrocious Mother at the weekend, that I forgot (oops!) to switch the damn thing on again yesterday.
Oh yes. All my fears have been confirmed. When push comes to shove I am an appalling Mommy. I want to tell you that my weekend was abundant with joy and brocante-esque pleasures. But instead I have to tell that I dressed my son like a girl and dropped him flat on his chocolate covered face. Oh yes.
You see Finley and I took ourselves on a little shopping jaunt on Saturday. Perhaps it wasn’t a good idea: my pmt is reaching new highs of atrocities upon the innocent and quite frankly my little boy was getting on my nerves.
(No I can’t believe I just said that either, but suffice to say it’s true.)
What I really wanted to do was lose myself in the aisles of the bookshop and drown myself peacefully in a cup of chai latte. Quietly. By myself. Alone if you please.
But instead I had to deal with a two year old who greets every instruction with "I’s not. I’ll kill ya." A child who is "going away to get a new Mummy!!" A two year old with a girlfriend. Oh yes. My son has a girlfriend called Keelaigh, a monster of a four year old who last week informed my son that a)boys aren’t allowed to kiss their mummies, because b) boys and girls only kiss each other in bed and c) kicking is good…
So there we were, me and my hooligan. In Starbucks. Me with a coldsore so ugly and dry it cracks everytime I eat, or laugh, or breathe and I find myself looking like Dracula’s Mother, blood running down my chin and misery written all over my face. So there we were: me with the cheese and marmite ciabatta I’d been craving and Finley with the only things Starbucks provide for children with celiacs/coeliacs: a plastic box full of fruit salad and a foil wrapped chocolate coin. There we were. Me staring into space and Finley taking the opportunity to lean over and drop squashed strawberries down my jumper. Me pretending I was somewhere else and Finley flashing his big brown eyes at an old lady smitten with his curly locks.
"Isn’t she a pretty little girl " cooed said scarily tanned and leathery old women.
Now trust me this happens all the time and normally I just nod and agree that yes indeed my little girl is scrumptiously pretty. But this time Finley took matters into his own hands:
"I is a boy! Don’t touch my pwecious curls. I’ll kill ya orange lady."
The woman looked at me like I had a raised a tiny pyschopath. "He’s wearing pink and his hair is long." She said. So bless me I must be raising a little girl.
I shoved "her" in "her" pram and grabbed a few magazines as I made my way to the door (Writers News, Counry Living USA, Romantic homes, Vogue and Selvedge) Then made my way to the toyshop where Finley proceeded to run wild for half an hour and I tried to think up a good bribe to get him out of the shop, only to find myself grappling with him on the floor in front of Liverpools yummiest Mummies.
Me with blood running down my chin and a piece of kiwi fruit hanging out my bra. Him with chocolate all over his face and pwecious locks a flying. And in that moment as I tried yet again to shove him into his pram, while keeping a hand clamped over his screaming mouth, I momentarily lost concentration as I watched a fur wrapped vision of maternal loveliness offer her immaculate toddler a hand to climb into his pushchair, and realised that I was finally losing the battle to maintain my composure no matter what.
Is it any wonder I dropped my gorgeous little monster?
Other Things To Do At BrocanteHome
Join the BrocanteHome Community
Discover my daily domestic to-do lists, join the conversation, read-along with the BrocanteHome bookclub and find exclusive Community only benefits inside.
Life Love & Vintage Housekeeping the by BrocantePrintables on Etsy
Create your own Brocante Life Book, plan Christmas, set up routines and rituals or live life the BrocanteHome way with my guided workbooks and planners.
You paint such an appealing picture of what comes ahead for me…
I can however help you on the cold sore. Take yourself to the health food shop (or available online) and get a tube of 'Super Lysine Plus' http://www.quantumhealth.com/productgroups/coldso…
I get cold sores comparatively frequently and I can tell you it is absolutely the business.
I was just about to suggest you get yourself some L-lysine. great for cold sores! and also – what I do is bathe mine in lavender drops in water and then dab neat lavender on it as well. poor gal xoxo
Ahh, toddlers! I sometimes worry that I will be bald from all of the hair pulling before my lovely Peanut turns three. I've taken to begging my husband, so that I don't have to take her grocery shopping with me. She loves an audience!
Chin up! It has to get better, for it can't get any worse. (or at least that's what I try to tell myself!)
OH Alison that is so funny and SO like my life with baby James! Isn't 2 "wonderful"?? Sounds like you needed a trip to your comfort drawer (and hope it's stocked with tiny bottles of liquor!!)
I just cackled at what Finley said to the old lady. "Pwecious!"
Oh I hope today is better for you. Your story made my morning!
Take care!
Alison, just when I thought I couldn't adore you any more than I already do, you go and post this! You are not an atrocious mummy, you just need 5 minutes of peace to yourself. And it's quite alright if the orange lady was told off by pwecious Finley. When you have fruit hanging from your delicate underthings, and a rather unruly toddler in tow, it was the perfect thing for him to say. Pulling strawberries from your bra is not the time for some old daft broad to start up a conversation! Look back and chuckle love. That was nothing compared to what lies ahead!!!!
You have an utterly delightful way of describing the madness called mommy-hood!!! I laughed out loud at what he said to the lady in Starbucks!
Who are those immaculate mommies with their well behaved toddlers? Your story was too funny!
oooh too ture, too cute. How funny.
oooh too true, too cute. How funny.
Oh me! This was too funny – and just what I needed at thi very moment! I, too, have gorgeous little monsters. It is wonderful to know I am not alone! ~big smiles~ Cass
Aaaah, Ali, don't worry. We've all been there to some degree. Some toddlers are more monstrous than others – my first was an angel, but the other two!!
Thanks for sharing though, it's always nice to start the day with a chuckle 🙂
My suggestion is to wait until he is at Nursery school and then do those scrumptious things by yourself, or with an adult friend!
Oh Alison…I was laughing so hard….what a time you must have had!!!! I just just imagine the look on that lady's face!! Oh my!! Take care of you…hugs to you dear!!
Maybe you should get back on the computer. At least until the "twos" pass.
So funny!
Alison,thanks so much for making me laugh.We've all been there or are going to be…., the p.m.s, cold sores, terrible twos and all.Pass the chocolate! ;0)
We have all been there Alison. Thanks for the memories, you have made my day. 🙂
You are not an atrocious mother at all. All mothers think this about a million times during their offspring's childhood. We're all sure we've destroyed our precious child's entire life because we weren't perfect. Heck, you'll think about it when Finley is a grown man. But you are perfect, just as you are–we all are. Finley exhibits definite leadership traits–look at it that way. Every time I read what he said, I have to laugh.
I'm adding another note, Alison. Consider keeping a special life journal for Finley, put all the little anecdotes about him in it as he grows. Then give it to him when he's grown and is about to become a father himself. I think that would be an ever so loving and "pwecious" gift.
The Liverpool Ompalumpas (ok I can't spell) are always out to cause trouble. Don't worry he'll grow out of his hellish Shirley Temple phase by the time he's 18.
What a vivid picture you paint with words! I remember the days of losing the battle to a 2 year old. I would love to go back to those days cause losing the battle to a 16 year old is not nearly as pwecious!
Oh Alison, you're such a gifted writer. I have no children yet, but this post certainly made me think (and chuckle). Poor thing! Your writing makes me feel like I was there…
That story makes me laugh out loud. I think all of us mothers of the terrible twos have gone through this more than once. Usually my little angel boy is very well behaved in public, but sometimes he is just an absolute terror.
This site is fantastic! I can't believe I found it on a yahoo search for "swedish style nook bed". In any case, your American friend and fellow freelance Writer-mom Carolyn is much bedazzled and thrilled to have found you. Let me know if you ever need someone to help you syndicate this or represent you!
love,
Carolyn