#1 Inform child that you will be leaving the house in thirty minutes time, and that prior to that they will be required to get ready, which will involve getting dressed, brushing their teeth, brushing their hair, and putting their shoes on.
Twenty minutes later…
#2 Call up the stairs to ask child if they are ready yet.
#3 Call up the stairs again.
#1 You have just pushed an entire other person out of your front bottom! Or had them bodily removed through a big hole in your stomach! You are fricking amazing!
#2 It is entirely normal to feel so happy you could dance naked through the streets, or so emotional you feel you could give Gwyneth doing her Oscar speech a run for her money, or so exhausted you feel like you want to crawl into a dark cave and sleep for three years. Or sometimes all of these things simultaneously.
Today I have woken up feeling angry because of something I read on the internet yesterday. The internet is a marvellous place to go if you want to snap out of your perfectly happy mood and get really really pissed off instead.
The thing that I read basically said that, if you are a parent, you should shut the fuck up whinging and basically marvel and appreciate every single fucking second of the marvellous gift which has been bestowed upon you.
Well excuse me while I dare to have an emotion about having children other than joy, wonder or grateful thanks.
This is Mum.
Mum has been trying to get the children ready to leave the house since 6.27am that morning.
It is now 8.54am and the school gates will close in exactly six minutes.
This is Kipper.
Kipper has been awake since 5am watching violent 18 certificate movies which he has illicitly downloaded on the Sky box using the parental password he is not supposed to know.
