Monday, 24 April 2017

Shopping with children.

It’s the weekend. Boomshackalack! It’s been a long old week, not gonna lie. I am still ill and its really getting me down. More tissues have been purchased (went for a prettier box this time. Nice Cath Kidston floral type pattern. Crap tissues but nice box). I’m off the Otravine but have had to buy some truly minging tablets called “Mucus relief”. Mucus. It’s one of those words isn’t it (especially when put together with the suffix ‘plug’),  like vagina, moist or tax return. It’s a word that makes you shudder and your skin crawl. I am getting there slowly but I managed to choke on some Starbucks scrambled egg that my daughter wouldn’t eat on Saturday because of this never ending cough. My husband came to the rescue with handfuls of napkins and water as the staff and other patrons just sat/stood and looked disgusted and appalled. Not the best reflection of human kindness that I have ever witnessed.

 My husband had let me have a lie in as I had been up 5 times with the small one who was calling out for me most of the night. At 5am I gave in and brought her into the big bed which means calling time on my sleeping whilst she pushes me out and spread eagles herself, snoring across my patch. When I awoke husband told me that he had already planned the day. Really. Have ya now, young man? His plan followed thus:
Activity 1. Daddy and toddler go swimming whilst Mummy has a quick sesh at the gym if she has the energy.
Activity 2. Sainsburys
Activity 3. Sofa bed hunting
Activity 4. Kew Gardens
What an action packed day! Not 1, not 2 nay 4 activities. Bless him. In this cunning plan there was no allowance made for naps or lunch. Fuck it! Let’s busk it. Throw my beautifully crafted routine right out of that ground floor window. We’re only dragging her round a shop for the afternoon. What could possibly go wrong?
This is how the day actually went…
After we had all fannied around for two hours we didn’t leave the house until 11:15. Now this is dangerously close to lunchtime and my poor little girl was angling for a nap as we left the house. As we closed the front door she clung onto her pram shouting out,” Pram! Sleep!”. Now I’d say that’s a pretty good indication that she wants a nap. Imminently. But oh no. You can’t veer off course with Daddy’s plan so I dropped my tired looking toddler and pensive hubster off at the pool. I hot footed it to the gym and did a 30 min speed workout, coughing up muck on the treadmill. I sped back to the pool, where I had been instructed to be waiting in the car at 12pm. I waited. Then I saw a traffic warden so I had to put money in the meter and went into the pool. I spotted the bright pink armbands immediately. They were still in the pool. Small one saw me and started howling. My husband, as wonderful as he is has absolutely no concept of time. Absolutely none. Apparently, she had just hung on to Daddy for the entire session and got really cold just to add insult to injury. We were there for another 40 mins whilst we changed small blue, shivering child into warm clothes and shoved Pomme Bears down her neck as a crap replacement for lunch.  We drove to Sainsburys and she fell to sleep as soon as her head hit the car seat. We did tag team shopping as I needed to get store cupboard essentials and toiletries and its easier if I do it myself and husband wanted to buy food for the week which means comfort food for after work ie. Tiramisu, biscuits, malt loaf and Brains faggots. She’d had a good hour so we decided to do lunch in the Sainsbury’s Starbucks, scene of my epic choke. She barely ate anything as had understandably been put off by her mother honking up food into a napkin. We set off for the sofa beds.

Now, my little one is pretty good in public. I can rely on her good behaviour in most situations. However, when she is “Hangry” and bored that goes out the window. One thing a toddler is probably not interested in is the thread count of upholstery, the type of mattress that a sofa bed has and whether it has removable covers that can be machine washed. Bless her. She was really good until she realised that this was not the kind of place that lets toddlers bounce on their stock. At which point she started rolling all over the rug and wanted to man handle the ornaments on the glass table, with skull cracking corners. Also, I couldn’t concentrate on the task in hand. If you’re potentially asking me to spend £1500 on something my parents are going to sleep on then I need to concentrate, without my toddler trying to introduce her cranium to a glass table. I’d never hear the ruddy end of it if it wasn’t right. We decided to tag team it so I went outside and we found a slope to run up and down. What is it with small children and slopes? That’s a whole hour of fun for my girl. The one in our local H&M has to be her favourite but any kind of incline will keep her happy. In fact, we were thinking of just making a slope in our garden and giving her a pile of sticks and pebbles for her looming 2nd birthday. She’d be like a pig in shit. Anyway, we swopped over and I got to look at the sofa beds that we couldn’t afford and then we headed off home, with no time for Kew Gardens. Quel surprise? Non? Poor child. She was treated to Kung Fu Panda and homemade Risotto for tea. Next weekend is all about her. We will swim together as a family, go to the park and we will not step foot inside a furniture shop. Infact, why don’t we just all go to the local H&M and run up and down her favourite slope. Now that would be fun.

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