Good old days

I was grinding my teeth and muttering curses today! Just a silly thing to get annoyed about now I’m thinking back, but at the time I could have merrily slapped someone.

It’s Monica’s fault. Bloody perky Monica. I stood outside nursery with this woman for YEARS. Or rather I didn’t because she was mostly late. But when I did, she pretty much ignored me, which wasn’t a bad thing in my book. Though I feel I should add there nothing wrong with her, she’s just too much like Cheri Blair, with perkiness and less intelligence, for my taste. And she can’t park for shit!

Day after day she would block me in and coo at her child as he attempted to kick her face in, as she attempted to strap him in his car seat. Ideally her husband wouldn’t buy her huge cars and she would take lessons and learn how to reverse, that way she could take a proper parking place and coo at leisure – as she does anyway, but I mean just her pleasure.

And she likes to chatter (though not to me, as I’ve mentioned). Little Miss Perky Popular with the Volvo moms. Not that I care about that! Except when I have to sit waiting for them to finish their gossip.

But I don’t have to sit waiting, because her son left in July! But she just can’t stay away.

Any bloody excuse and she’s back. Today was the Christmas party – and THAT’S an excuse! Oooo, and just like old times she pulled in and blocked my car as we were getting into it! No-one else’s I might add. Just mine, with me sitting in it.

‘Two minutes,’ she yelled with a smile and perky wave. Seven minutes later, as I sat drumming my fingers on the steering wheel and grinding my teeth, S asked if she was my friend.

Now look what’s happen, I repeat a tale of a moment’s frustration and I’m right back in it! That wasn’t supposed to be the point of today’s post. Because the point was that after this incident with Miss Perky, S made me smile and all my gripes vanished.

It wasn’t the friend question, but her confusion about why we weren’t going home before going to pick J and the boys up. I tried explaining that today, wasn’t proper nursery, but the Christmas party and as such the times were different and we were running two hours later than normal (and another fifteen minutes thanks to Miss Perky!).

S got really cross and began kicking her seat. Her face was all scrunched up with her fury that she wasn’t getting a lunchtime orange (she’s adores them at the moment) and I was reminded of P at that age. Somehow when one horrid toddler grows into a nearly normal person the second ghastly toddler that comes along doesn’t worry you so much, and I found her antics amusing. Which of course, just fuelled her fury. She ranted and raved and kicked a bit before she began listening to my explanation. I thought she was understanding it and seeing reason, till I took a look and saw she had fallen asleep.

She’s still so little and I think sometimes I forget the different ages of my kids. Umm, but maybe not quite, as I’m always aware S is the baby and the least hassle, I just forget exactly how young she is, and operate to an age mid-stream. But this year is turning into something special, because now they’re all singing the carols and telling me what they want from Santa. S has joined the others and has activities of her own to show-off, and my baby doesn't often seem such a baby anymore. Earlier in the year I felt relief that I now get more freedom than I’ve had in a decade, and I’m not taking that relief back, it’s just her reaction to everything at the moment is a constant reminder of how small she really is.

I wish I could keep her this little.