A week of parenting fails, part two

I was going to call this “Part Deux” but then realised it would make me sound like a cross between a complete wanker and Derek Trotter. I have enough of being a wanker this week, what with my parenting faux pax in Sainsbury’s on Monday:

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Yes, that is my little darling dragging a shopping basket around my local supermarket. It was heaving in there, hot and sweaty, and people were pissed off enough without tripping over an over excited toddler lugging around a basket like a tramp on special brew. I often forget that no one else finds my two year old cute, funny and sweet and sometimes I am the entitled cow snapping photos for Instagram in the milk aisle. I am sorry.

Tuesday brings it’s own special kind of horror: toddler group. I only take her because I think I have to, truth is, she moans incessantly though the whole thing and is prone to pushing other children when she doesn’t get her own way. Plus, there are a group of mums there who don’t seem to like me and the while experience makes me feel like I am back in year 10 trying to get in with the cool girls. Cool I am not, because this is how I turned up at the group:

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One of these trainers is mine, the other belongs to my teenage son and is a size too big. I didn’t even notice until a three year old pointed it out to me. Cheers.

Wednesday we had a ‘playdate’. Playdate in our house is code for another child coming round who Edie just about tolerates touching her stuff until she blows and has a meltdown about twenty minuets in. I was looking forward to this one as I wanted to get to know the mum better. Unfortunately, as soon as se walked into the kitchen she was faced with this:

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Yes, I like to make rude words from my child’s puzzle pieces and adorn my house with them, the immature person I am. She seemed shocked, so I blamed it on my teenager. Now she thinks I am a terrible mother and I don’t think she wants to be friends.

Thursday, the photo speaks for itself: 

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She was a shit all day so I gave in and let her share her yogurt with the cat.

Friday: Father’s day is coming. Ive bought one of those wanky cards with a heart cut out to put a photo in. My child is hit and miss with photos; either posing hands on hips like a tiny version of Miley Cyrus or screaming and trying to hit the camera. So I sat her on a stool and did my best. This is the action shot before she needed to go to A&E to have her head glued back together:

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My Kid Doesn't Poop Rainbows
3 Little Buttons

3 Comments »

  1. Haha this made me laugh a lot! I think the rude words around the house is genius – who wouldn’t be impressed with that?? And I’m only glad we don’t have pets, otherwise you just know my daughter would be feeding them everything! Thanks so much for linking up to the #dreamteam …is there room for a part trois? xx

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I seriously just fist pumped when I saw that there was a part deux after having read the first installment. I’m still giggling from the first one and I swear to God that a little bit of pee came out reading this one (the photo with the cat!) I’m now off to raid my daughter’s alphabet puzzle and leave some rude words around the house for the hubby tomorrow. Looks like fun! Thanks for linking and the giggles! #fartglitter x

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  3. Haha I am let my toddler drag a basket around the shop too, anything to keep him happy! love the photo of your little lady feeding the cat. I have never worn 2 different shoes myself but have had a rather snotty comment from a mum I had never spoke to before at baby group telling me I had put my sons shoes on the wrong feet!xx #fartglitter

    Liked by 1 person

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