Bum Boy

Move over Roald Dahl. We’ve discovered David Walliams and I love him. I’ve watched him over the years on TV (funny guy) but was a bit unsure about his books until I started reading “Billionaire Boy” (also known as “Bum boy”).

The sad thing is I was reading “George’s Marvellous Medicine” to my girls before Christmas but when Santa dropped that David Walliams box set down the chimney, it got left to one side while we discovered the works of the new kid on the block.

Somehow though “Billionaire Boy” has got lost and I’m only 3/4 of the way through so the bedtime stories have been a little less fun the last few days and the search for the lost book in the avalanche of toys, books, glitter and hair accessories that is a girl’s bedroom continues…


Poison Berries

We all know how important it is that we and our kids get their 5 a day. So I thought it was time I introduced some fruit at breakfast time. I left out some strawberries while I was upstairs getting ready for my girls to help themselves after their cereal.

Suddenly I heard screaming. I ran downstairs to find out what was going on. “Mom, these berries are poisonous!” “No, they’re not” I replied, knowing that they were freshly bought the day before.

I tried one and straight away I remembered. Some foods don’t mix well with toothpaste teeth. They didn’t taste quite as fresh as they usually did but I reassured both Anna and Elsa that no one was trying to poison them – they had obviously been reading a few too many fairy tales!


“OK, google…”


I heard Anna talking to someone the other day. I knew she was in the other room by herself so I thought she must be at that imaginary friend stage. I snuck over to the room and peered through a crack in the door to try and have a listen in to this secret conversation.

To my surprise, she was talking to her friend google on the tablet. She was asking for what you would find most 4 year olds searching the net for: “Topsy and Tim”. (I imagine it would be the most trending topic for under 5s if such information was available.)

Listening to her, I felt proud of my little girl having such beautiful manners. She always ended her google search request with a please. If only she knew, how little this mattered.

A few days later, I heard shouting and it sounded like some sort of confrontation was taking place. I went running to investigate and found that the relationship was over. Anna’s polite requests had been replaced by the very definite: “I hate you google!”

Knowing how many episodes of “Topsy and Tim”exist on Youtube, I feel this breakup will be very short-lived.

Happy Birthday?

I had to share this story as it really made my day. Little Anna is only 4 and her birthday is in August. I always say to her your birthday is when the summer comes and it’s really hot. Well, we have had 3 days of sunshine now so she obviously thought the time had come.

She came home from school today and told me that she told her teacher it had been her birthday yesterday and the whole class sang happy birthday to her!

She then followed that up by saying she was aged 90 – the same as the Queen. She had nearly got away with it…

“Mom, I can’t find my shoes…”

I will be the first to admit I am not at my best in the morning. So to combat this I have been trying to get organised the night before. On Sunday night I had put out the school uniform all ironed, made the sandwiches and made sure the school bags were packed and ready to go.

I was really proud of myself and was looking forward to an easy morning with everthing running smoothly. And to my joy, everything did run pretty well. Until it came time to leave the house.

To my surprise Anna couldn’t find her school shoes. She had not worn them since school on Friday and had not moved them anywhere. So where could they be?

Well like any mother who has a full time job, I wasn’t going to waste any time finding out so I told her to wear her trainers to school and face the wrath of her teacher. Having ransacked the house that night, we still couldn’t find them.

So off she went to school in her trainers for a second day. That day at school though she suddenly remembered that her school shoes were in her sports bag at school where she had left them after gym class last week!

I’m just SMH – shaking my head. Left to right, left to right with a little eye roll at the end for good measure.

Trolley Wars

I remember after Anna was born, the first time I went out by myself was when she was one month old. And to where did I make this first childless journey? The supermarket. And it felt amazing, to be out and about browsing the aisles all alone. Child free. Easy.

Fast forward a few years and these days supermarket trips are a major mission. By the time everyone is dressed and ready to go and we have started the engine before we realise we have no plastic bags, and so have to go back in the house, I’m exhausted. But to the supermarket we must go. To stock up on cheese strings and dairylea dunkers to fill the week’s lunch boxes.

Anyway the point of my story is to warn you of the child pushing a trolley. The child will not give up until you hand over the bar and let them loose and then they’re are a menace racing up and down the aisles.

Anna races up and down with little Elsa traipsing behind her with the sound of me screaming “slow down” in the distance.

I hate those looks you get when your child bumps into someone else’s trolley and you have go mouth “sorry” and run away, leaving behind that loaf of bread you need for the kids’ sandwiches until they have gone.

I have warned her though. If she knocks into someone else’s trolley and they kick off, she’s on her own. If she’s big enough to start a trolley war with someone, she can finish it. And the day that happens will be the day we buy an extortionate monthly pass to get our shopping delivered at home where we will get the left over fruit and veg no one else wants. I can’t wait. The joys of parenthood never end.



Mouldy Sandwiches?

Elsa is a nightmare when it comes to bringing her lunchbox home from school. She insists on sandwiches any day when there isn’t a roast dinner and nearly always leaves her lunchbox at school for days on end. (So much for free school meals!)

Anyway as usual, she left her lunchbox at school over the last half term holiday. For some reason, she always gets up to put her empty drink carton in the bin at school but leaves her leftover food in the box to bring home.

On the first day back to school, I accidentally gave Elsa’s lunchbox to Anna when she went into her classroom. I realised straightaway and told Elsa to go to Anna’s classroom to get it but for some reason she refused. I then told Anna’s teacher what had happened and she promised to take the lunchbox to Elsa’s classroom.

So far, so good. No big deal, I hear you thinking.

So you can imagine my surprise that night when Elsa came home and asked why she had been given mouldy sandwiches for her lunch and an empty box of raisons?! She told me that she had told the dinner lady what was in her lunchbox and had to be given a school dinner instead. She said she couldn’t believe what she had been given to eat!

I told her that I had made sure her lunchbox was taken to her classroom that morning. Her reply, “Oh yeah, I remember the teacher bringing it in.” I said to her why on earth would I give her mouldy sandwiches and an empty raison box???  What was she thinking? What sort of a mother did she think I was? Why would I ever do something like that?

I then reminded her that she has a habit of leaving her old lunchboxes on the lunch trolley and had obviously picked up the old one. Her reply, “Oh yeah, I must have done that.” I then made her promise to tell the dinner lady about the mix up the next day. I didn’t want to imagine what the dinner lady must have been thinking!

The following day, Elsa told me that she had explained that she had picked up an old lunchbox  to the dinner lady, who said that she had thought that was what had happened. Thank heavens for that. There was me thinking I was going to be down on some sort of bad mother register for sending my child to school with mouldy food.

Elsa still forgets to bring her lunchbox home some days but she has been warned that if she doesn’t start remembering, she won’t get any sandwiches in the future and will be forced to eat mountains of beans and fish varieties (fingers/cakes/goujons) which she hates. A pretty good incentive I think as I have tried school dinners recently but that’s a post for another day…