Miss T for Terrible

Is it really only a Monday? I am sitting here, eating a Kit Kat Chunky, thinking that I must be mistaken. Today has a very Thursdayish feel about it. I do not like Kit Kat Chunkys, but it seems to be hitting the spot.

Miss T is twenty months old and has hit the Terrible Twos with a vengeance. She is everywhere. She is into everything. She is mightily stroppy. She tells me off. She wallops me quite a lot. Today she has thrown an almighty strop at the school gates because I would not let her climb a tree. We both ended up covered in mud and I took a Croc to the face while I was trying to hold on to her. (Never hold a kicking toddler in a fireman's lift).

She has had everything out of every cupboard in the kitchen today. Dishwasher tablets and Flash. Plates and bowls. Flour, raisins, baking trays. Garlic and curry powder. W's Le Creuset mini casserole pots. Hmm. Miss T is going to be in a lot of trouble when her Dad gets home - one of the pots is now short of a handle. Still usable,but not pretty. Grr.

She has thrown her shoes away more times than I can count today. She left one on the wrong side of the main road. The man crossing behind me says 'Oi love, your baby's dropped 'er shoe over there. I would've picked it up, but.'

I think: But what? But you couldn't be bothered? But you thought it'd be funny to make me cross the road two more times? But you're astoundingly rude? But you're a @*$$*£?

On the last school trip of the day Custard throws a tantrum because I refuse to push him on the buggy. I explain, patiently, that I am tired, the buggy is very heavy and quite rickety with him on it. I say that if I push it I will be too tired to make tea. I am genuinely nearly crying with tiredness. He just shouts louder. By the time we reach school he is purple. I receive many sympathetic looks from other mums. I think quite a few people are having a Kit Kat Chunky sort of day.

It is face painting club day. FHB is blue with black eyes and black and yellow teeth. I take a punt on it: You make a great skellington, I say.

FHB (with quivering lip): I am NOT a skellington, I am a robot. (Sniff). But I am a rubbish robot because I wanted to be a sea monster.

Me: Well sweetie, why couldn't you be a sea monster?

FHB: They ran out of green.

Me: Maybe that's because you've been a sea monster every week so far. Couldn't you have been a blue sea monster?

FHB: No (looks at me as if I'm mad), they are green.

Me: Well let's go home and have a fairy cake.

At home, Miss T shreds fairy cake all over downstairs. FHB is so busy moaning that he needs a straw to drink through so he does not smudge the rubbish robot that he drops his glass on the table and there is a Ribena waterfall. I explode. Then I clean up, Then I go for a quiet moment upstairs and disover that the inconsiderate burglars have visited Mouse's bedroom again. I close my eyes and decide to let it go.

My happy moment of the day came at lunchtime. Cheese on toast with Miss T and Custard. I had some of my Mother in law, Toot's, homemade green tomato chutney. It is wonderful stuff! Custard does not agree.

Custard: What is that?

Me: It's Toot's chutney. Do you want some?

Custard: Bleurrrrghh. (Gets up and dances while singing): CHUTNEY GIRL, CHUTNEY GIRL, MUMMY IS A CHUTNEY GIRL.

This makes me laugh a lot, though, when I think about it, it is Quite Grim.

And now here we are, Kit Kat o'clock. Actually, I am feeling much better. I do not know if that is coffee, chocolate or the catharsis of writing it all down. Maybe it's just that nobody has shouted at me for a while.
I think I'll get on with a hat.

x