For the Glove of Children

I don’t want to sound cruel, but I’ve just spent the last half an hour trying to get a pair of gardening gloves on my eldest wee one so he could pick some lemons and I feel disappointed in his dexterity.

I like to think I’m a patient person, but seriously child, why do his fingers move independently from his brain? What is so hard to understand about gloves and the way they work??

I asked him to take two of the three fingers he had squeezed into one hole back out again, instead he took the thumb out of the correct spot.

I laughed at first, it was kind of funny, but for the love of lemons it was not funny after five minutes and even less funny after fifteen.

We did a practise run of pretending to put on a glove. I mimed like I have never mimed before, Marcel Marceau would have been proud, I even did the surprised face when my imaginary glove fit perfectly, four fingers and thumb nicely cocooned in their own make believe glovey goodness.

The wee one understood, displayed an appropriate amount of mirth at the necessary mimey moments, so we progressed to putting on the real glove

Slid it over his fingers and hand, he spread them out into their little boy finger sized homes and Success!

NO! Three empty finger holes and a boy with pincer hands..... That will do wont it? No, apparently not according to the inappropriately hysterical response.

3 deep breaths

Try again

Fingers in, fingers out, fingers in, thumb out, glove off, glove back on, fingers out, thumb in, glove off, glove on other side of room, glove retrieved, glove on, fingers squashed, glove off, glove used to wipe perspiration off face..........

Wee one now picking lemons with newly created fingerless gloves.

Supermarket Stories Part I

One from the Vault – and oldie that some of you may have seen before.

How do your kids behave at the supermarket? I'm scratching my head about my wee one - I think he's got dissociative identity disorder or something - his multiple personalities come out when we're shopping - maybe it's the fluro lighting and all the pretty packaging or something

I normally like to shop with Husband so one of us can deal with crazy boy and the other can shop but this time I had to go by myself because Husband has been working late and we haven't been able to go and there's only so many days in a row that you can palm salada's off as being a nutritious lunch......

So we get there – the wee one wont get into the trolley seat - no biggie - I just whip out the biscuit from my front pocket and give it to him (high five super Mothering moment!)

We wheel around, I'm careful not to leave him too close to the vegies, he normally pulls them off the shelf - he's being good so I give him the cucumber to hold.

Wheel around some more, he puts the cucumber in someone else’s trolley...... and I realise it's had a few bites taken out of it..... I don't know what to do about it...... I look at their trolley..... look at the wee one..... they didn't notice so I think if I put my hand in their trolley they are going to think I'm strange..... so I leave it there and we move quickly away.....

Then the wee one thinks it's fun to squeal at the top of his lungs in short sharp bursts...... alot..... after I wipe the blood from my ears I hand him another biccie from my back pocket - that keeps him quiet for a while

Then he decides to reach backwards and grab what he can from the trolley and just drop it on the floor... oh man - so annoying! I move all the stuff to the front of the trolley so he can't reach it and he fuh-lips out - big time - trying to stand up (I got the trolley without a restraint..... didn't think it would matter..... so so so so wrong)

So he's trying to stand up, I'm trying to grab the can of dog food that is rolling away and the squealing starts again

seriously I felt like such a loser tool mother it was ridiculous - and I had run out of biscuits

I thought fuck this lets just pay for what we have and get out of here - 30 people lined up and only 2 check out chicks - I go for the shorter line and this piece of work woman practically runs to cut me off from the other direction - I glare, she ignores and then the wee starts squealing some more, not really bothering me now, but really bothering her.

We get through the check out and I go to the escalator to go upstairs to the car park and wouldn't you know it I have a trolley with broken brakes - I had to hold it the whole way up with the wee one on my hip - I wasn't sure we were going to make it (How did she die? squashed by her own groceries after being rolled over by a shopping trolley.....)

Shopping used to be so easy - now it's such a monumental pain in the arse!



oh and I forgot to get a replacement cucumber.....

well ok then.

Dear Warner Bros,

I took my son to see Yogi Bear at the movies the other day. It was a sunny day so I don't know why we went.

After seeing the movie I would like to ask for a refund.

And that hour and a half of my life back.

Regards, E.