Just In Case

“I wish I could go by my own” said The Youngest indignantly.

Now, I’m not used to this malarkey as The Eldest has anxieties on top of his anxieties, it is most unlikely that he will walk himself to or from school any time soon. He wants to, he wants to walk home alone, with some money to go to the shop and buy chocolate, but says he’s not ready yet. I offered him a friend to walk with but still he said no. This is fine by me, it will come. Inside him is the heart of a warrior, I know this because he fights every day, he fights to overcome his many fears and he succeeds most days.

As for her. Inside her is the heart of an adventurer, the heart of a fearless adventurer, a blooming great fearless sodding adventurer. One which doesn’t appear to want to give me any time to adjust either. Talk about from one extreme to another, jeez. Anyhoo, this is how it went down.

“I wish I could go by my own”

We were four streets away from her school, she is five.

“Mummy will get into trouble with the police if I let you walk to school by your own”

“No you won’t!”

“Yes I will. Ask teacher if you can walk to school on your own”


We walk for a bit in complete silence.

“Pretend you don’t know me then!”

So I pretend not to know her whilst struggling to keep a straight face. We get to school. The Youngest stops me outside the gates.

“Leave me here”

“No. I cannot leave you outside the gates, I have to come in”

I’m allowed in to the playground, just. Off she goes leaving a broken heart in her wake. It was horrible watching that tiny person just go, she didn’t look back, she is an arse, an evil, brave, confident, marvellous little arse.

I write a note to the school explaining my situation secretly hoping I will be told that this is just not on, that a five year old should be escorted to the door, that I’m a terrible mother and so on. Alas this was not to be. They think it’s great that she wants to be independent, so long as I lurk until she’s inside the building they are happy for the arse to take herself into school. Oh bugger!

So, most mornings I pretend not to know her. Occasionally I am allowed to speak to her as if I were a stranger making polite conversation with another stranger.

“Morning” I say cheerfully.

“Morning, what’s your name?” she will ask.

I will make someone up, someone exotic, and we will chat our merry way to school. Sometimes she will allow me to walk her to her classroom but I let her decided which days those are. I’m just the person who walks ten steps behind her ready to catch her if she falls and I’m happy to be that person for as long as she allows.

Of course, once she thinks she’s no need of me, I shall hide behind trees and bushes, head to toe in camouflage combat gear, ever ready, just in case.



The Wall

Any of you been to Woburn Safari Park? Well I have, loads. We lived there as kids and when The Eldest arrived we purchased the year passes and we lived there again. Sadly, when The Youngest arrived, although we did buy year passes, we couldn’t go as much, school runs interfere with everything, having to be back by three sucks big hairy balls. We no longer buy year passes.

However, I’ve wandered from my point.

When we were wee my Dad told us that the wall around the safari park is brick, of course, but every now and then, to aid movement due to weather, a pillar is made of metal. Yes, you read correctly, the wall is made of metal. Mind. Blown!

We never tested his theory because we were wee and that is a busy road, my Dad didn’t want us to die. The (at this time, soon to be) Husband wasn’t so fussy as to whether I died or not.

We’d driven by at some point and I had told him the story of the metal wall.

“Oh” said The Soon To Be Husband in an uninterested kind of way.

Fast forward to another day, a day where I was terribly upset about things not relating to this tale. We were heading somewhere, no idea now where, and I was crying, lots. After a while I realised we were slowing down. We’d stopped in the middle of nowhere. I looked at The Soon To Be Husband.

“There you go” he said and nodded towards the wall.


I was a grown up by now so could be trusted by busy roads.

There’s metal in that there wall I tell thee.

I was beside myself excited. Not only did I discover that the wall was metal in places I also realised that The Soon To Be Husband had been listening after all and had remembered and had known that what I needed at that moment, as we passed the wall that day, was to touch that wall.

That day is the reason The Soon To Be Husband is now The Husband.


I miss Rocky already.

The Youngest is desperate for a pet, first choice a zebra but anything will do, dog, cat, hamster or a budgie, she’d love a budgie. The Eldest, who hates anything that poos, suddenly decided he wants a dog. Not something we thought we’d ever hear him say but there you are, we never thought he’d eat a potato but he now does, people can change.

We plagued The Husband for months then, when he said yes, rapidly changed our minds. After some persuasion we were back on board with the whole dog thing. The Husband cannot for the life of him work out how he ended up talking us into it but he did. Off to Wood Green we went.

We’d already picked our dog, Charlie, but fell in love with Molly and Rocky while we were there. The four of us couldn’t agree though. I wanted Rocky, he was huge and white and scruffy and I loved him on sight. The Husband wanted Charlie a Beagle who, quite rightly, had concluded in an instant that he was far too good for the likes of us. The children wanted Molly because she was small and blooming gorgeous. 

All three were taken.

We went to the park for a bit to give our broken hearts a few moments to heal. After a quick spin on the roundabout all was well in our world.

On the way home we were talking about Molly.

“I wanted Molly” whined The Eldest.

“Me too” I whined in return.

“Was it a cat or a dog?” asked The Youngest.

? . . . . . .

“A dog” said I thinking that it could be an easy mistake to make as she was cat sized.

“Oh, I don’t want a dog” 

Right. Ok then.


I couldn’t play My Little Pony any longer. The Husband didn’t want to pretend to be a brother, again. The Eldest, who is a brother, was holed up in his room with the curtains shut and his ear phones on being as dull as it is possible for a human being to be.

We needed to get The Youngest out of the house. We needed to release her into the wild. We went to Wrest Park. There’s lots of space to run at Wrest Park, plenty of slopes to roll down and lots of other children for her to ask their names.

It was lovely.

We forgot to take snacks so spent £16.40 on some biscuits, two bottles of water and two teas. The Youngest pinched her leg climbing onto the toilet then, between sobs, refused to go for a wee. The Eldest rolled down a slope then moaned about the grass in his pants for EVER. Then there was the row, the row about how to spell tree.

This is what happened when we told The Youngest that tree doesn’t begin with ch.


She came back. Eventually.

I loved it, there was a brass band and ice creams. We’re going back next week, with snacks and a dictionary.


As we left school yesterday I noticed The Youngest was chewing.

“Are you eating?”

She just smiled at me.

“You’re chewing, what are you eating?”

She chuckled a little, she may have chuckled more if her mouth hadn’t have been full. Her friend intervened at this point.

“She’s eating a carrot off the floor”

Of course she was. I’d seen the carrot on the floor, it was dry and a bit wrinkly, it was grim. Yet, Little Miss Hungry had seen it and thought

“Yum, I’ll have that”

I made her spit it out, little grot bag.

I’ve just made her lunch for today with a lovely fresh crunchy carrot in there. I know it’s a good ‘un because I’ve eaten some. Thing is, I feel bad. Why did I make her spit out her tasty treasure? She’d have already chewed the gravel and muck off of it then I made her give up the good bit.

Being a parent is hard, we have to make a lot of quick on the spot decisions.

Yesterday I got it wrong.


Money Money Money

“If you had infinite money what would you buy?” asked The Eldest.

For a while I couldn’t think of anything. Nothing. Damn I’m boring. Eventually I plumped for a house with land, I’d like some land.

“Is that it?”

“Oh, I’d have a top of the range Range Rover, an all singing all dancing Range Rover . . . . . . and a live in chef”

I was getting the hang of it now but it was his turn.

“I’d have a new graphics card and an HTC Vive VR headset for £700. Then I’d give some to the poor”

I raised my eyebrows in surprise.

“Oh yeah, you didn’t think about the poor did you?!”

No. No I did not. I am a horrible human being.