I'm sick of being ill...

The Bad Mutha household has had to go into quarantine for the last few days.

DD2 picked up a hideous projectile vomiting bug late last week and gave it to the rest of us one by one.

It’s been like a game of Russian Roulette trying to work out which one of us was going to get it next.

God sometimes it’s rubbish having small kids.

They pick up every single bug going and pass it on without a care in the world.

I don’t think I’ve had a month so far this year when I haven’t had some sort of cold/sickness/feeling generally crap scenario.

Of course, I blame DD2’s toddler group for everything.

She went there last Wednesday. Sure enough the next day she was boffing for Britain.

My suspicions were confirmed when I talked to another mum who goes there - and exactly the same symptoms had emerged at exactly the same time in her little girl.

And then all her family had come down with it too.

Coincidence maybe. I think not. As Arthur C Clarke used to say.

Anyway, the other mum and I both spent an enjoyable half hour bitching about which little toe-rag we thought it was who’d gone to the village hall harbouring all those nasty germs and deliberately passed them on to everyone else.

I suppose the only consolation is knowing his/her family all spent most of this week staring at the bottom of a bog bowl too.

Anyway, wonder who we’ve passed it on to....?

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School's out - but not for everyone!

DD1 is proper hacked off today - again.
All the schools in Notts are celebrating the end of term this weekend - but we live up the A609 in leafy(ish) Derbyshire.
And she has to haul her ass into school on three more occasions next week thanks to good old Derbyshire County Council.
Breaking up next Wednesday instead of today might not seem like the end of the world to you and I.
But when, like DD1, you’re in the last year of primary and you’ve been doing nothing but farting about since about May, it does seem to be unnecessarily prolonging the agony
Course I did point out that Notts kids should officially be going in until Tuesday. They’re only finishing now because most schools decided to have the extra two days as inset days.
DD1’s school on the other hand made the really sensible decision to have inset days two weeks ago.
Logical or what?
Anyway, I’m secretly glad. I still don’t think I’m quite ready for the brand new parental status known as: “not having a child at primary school.”
No more school runs in the pouring rain? No more bitching at the gate with the other mums? No more driving round the streets for three hours looking for a parking space?
How will I ever cope?

To pierce or not to pierce - that is the question...

What age is it ok to let your DD get her ears pierced?

My eldest is 11 and has been nagging me morning, noon and night to let her have it done.

She reckons she is the only girl in Year Six not to have pierced ears.

And indeed I know this is probably quite close to the truth - especially as round where I live the average age for getting it done is about two.

But there was no way I was going to let my PFB (precious first born) anywhere near one of those ear butchers at such a young age.

I don’t know what it is about seeing a toddler with pierced ears that makes me feel so uneasy.

Is it just because it’s such a chavvy look? Or maybe because it seems like plain child cruelty to me?

How can a mum actually go ahead and take a small child to have a gun pierce a hole through her ears like that?

I feel bad enough about the prospect with a nice mature DD who is about to start secondary school - never mind a little tot who doesn’t have a clue about fashion trends and accessorizing an outfit.

I am fairly tempted to say I have no objection to my own kid’s wishes.

Mainly because she is so pathetic when it comes to pain and squeamish things that I suspect she will chicken out in the end.

Plus, she probably takes after me - allergic to virtually all forms of jewellery apart from solid platinum and gold.

And there’s no way, even on HER pocket money, she will ever be able to stretch to that...

Kids - who needs 'em?

It’s been an odd week in the Bad Mutha household.

DD1 has been away for a five day long school trip to the Isle of Wight.

When we turned up to wave her and all her other Year Six pals off on Monday morning, DP and I couldn’t believe how wussy the other parents were being.

You’d think the kids were all World War Two evacuees being sent off Lord knows where for six or seven years the way some folk were bawling.

The kids themselves were much more mature about it. But that’s probably because all they were concerned about was who they were going to “get off” with at the disco on the Thursday night. Hmm.

DD1 has a chum whose mum couldn’t think what she was going to do all week without her precious child to look after.

“It’ll be like a morgue in our house,” she moaned.

Funny thing was when DP and I suggested she had our psycho toddler for a couple of days to quell the endless boredom, she wasn’t at all keen.

You see, if we’d found ourselves in a position where we had no kids to look after for nearly a week, you wouldn’t have seen us for dust.

It would have been Pimms O’Clock followed by a quick Google to book one of those “couples only” breaks at a snobby hotel before you could say: “Kids - who needs em?”

Some folk just have no idea how to have fun.

Anyway, don’t get me wrong, we are looking forward to seeing DD1 again when she arrives home tonight.

Mainly because we’re dying to know who she DID get off with...

Parenting - it's not rocket science, is it?

Blokes are useless when it comes to looking after small kids aren’t they?
Oh, don’t get me wrong, DP does more than his fair share and all that.
But, despite the fact that he’s run his own successful business for nearly 20 years, he can’t seem to manage DD2 properly at all.
Our child-minder has, at great inconvenience to us, been off on holiday for the last two weeks.
So DP has had two days in a row both this week and last with just him and the 14-month-old terror.
Talk about total chaos.
Food sprawled across the walls, toys everywhere, valuable paperwork ripped to shreds...
And then there’s the weird outfits he’s been dressing her in. He got some awful strange looks at toddler group, apparently.
But the worst thing is his haphazard attitude to sleep time. Which, as every Bad Mutha knows, is the most important part of the day. Mainly because it’s when you can watch the telly in peace, have 40 winks yourself or go online shopping.
I came home from work at about 5.30pm the other afternoon to find DD2 just getting up after her two hour “lunchtime” nap.
So when we tried to put her to bed at 7pm she was having none of that.
I pointed out to DP that maybe he should have considered putting the baby to bed a little earlier for her lunchtime sleep. Like, you know, at lunchtime.
He then went off in a huff for a walk with DD2 until 9.30pm.
Obviously, they ended up in the boozer. And came back making a racket right in the middle of the final of The Apprentice. Sacrilege.
The next evening, I came home at 5.30pm again to find DD2 doing her best impression of that girl from The Exorcist while DP looked like he was about to have a nervous breakdown.
"She could be tired," I ventured. "When did you put her down for a nap today?"
"Oh she's not had a nap at all. I thought you'd just get mad again if she did," he moaned.
Yep. Blardy useless.

I've got a toddler from hell!

DD2 has developed an impressive new skill this week.
She’s taken to kneeling down, banging her head on the floor and screaming like a constipated pterodactyl if she doesn’t get her own way.
I think this is what they call the “terrible twos.”
Which is odd, because she isn’t even 14 months old yet.
Trust me to get an early starter.
I don’t really think you’ve lived properly until you’ve experienced your child doing a “publicly executed toddler tantrum.”
Preferably in a quiet restaurant or the busy bacon aisle at Tesco.
Nothing can compare with the utter cheek flushing humiliation of trying to control a small person who suddenly develops the strength of about ten Arnold Schwarzeneggers because she’s dropped her cuddly Iggle Piggle.
You’re always aware of the disapproving stares of onlookers, or the folk who do a “comedy wince” and mutter something about “toddlers from hell.”
And then there are the people who seem to think they can “help.”
DD2 went into full tantrum mode at toddler group the other day because another kid had decided he wanted to play with the plastic sausage she’d been monopolising all morning.
Rolling on the floor, screaming, kicking, punching, swearing (well, the babbling equivalent) - we had it all.
Another mum tutted helpfully: “Ooh, she has got a temper on her - you better get that sorted.”
Well, you don’t say!
I resisted the urge to smack her one in the face and instead smiled pathetically: “Yeah.”
What exactly am I supposed to do then?
Naughty steps are out at this stage because she has no idea what naughty means and can’t sit on a step without falling off it.
It’s also a bit too soon for reward charts, distraction techniques and all those other Jo Frost specials.
So you know what I do?
Give her a biscuit. Works every time.
You don’t think I’m doing this parenting thing wrong do you...?

DD1 could be Nancy - or anyone - honest!

Like most mothers, I am convinced my children are the most talented, attractive and interesting kids on the planet.
And I am utterly amazed when other people don’t agree with me. How very dare they?
Take DD1, who having finished her boring SATS exams, has now got down to the much more important business of being in Year Six. The end of term play.
This year they’re doing one of those incredibly PC modern musicals about bullying or scratchcards or something. I don’t really know much about it to be honest.
Anyway the crucial point is, DD1 would have been ideal for the lead role.
Yet, amazingly, they’ve chosen one of the other girls.
What on earth are the teachers thinking?
The funny thing is, they’ve done this nearly every year since DD1 was in reception.
Failed to notice her amazing talent and beauty and gone for someone else instead, that is.
And every year, despite my better judgement, I am absolutely seething about it.
Because they always, always go for the same loud and in yer face girl.
Snow White? Oh give the role to XXX.
Robin Hood? Well, none of the lads are any good - but XXX could do it.
Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory? Hey, wouldn’t XXX be a good idea in the lead?
I tell you, I’m beginning to think that family have got incriminating photos of the head teacher or something.
The only time my daughter has had any success was in Year One when she did somehow land the lead role.
In a show called The Christmas Cactus. She played the cactus.
No lines, no singing required. Just a lot of standing around like a plant.
Still, it was a minor victory.
Until I found out who was playing the cactus owner, which involved singing about 50 songs and wearing a really nice dress...