Friday, 16 July 2010

Preying on the weak

When I have got PMT I hate doing the school run - it turns me into a nervous and paranoid wreck. I worry that this mum deliberately blanked me, or that member of staff thought Betty's packed lunch was sub-standard etc etc. So if Tom is not too busy I get him to do it, claiming special dispensation.

This afternoon I had no choice but to do it, as Tom said he had some important conference call which he could not get out of, despite my best efforts.

Before setting off to pick Betty up, in an attempt to boost morale, I tried to make myself, Dolly, and the car look presentable. Most of the other mums are skinny and sparkly, with clean babies, and drive immaculate four-by-fours, and always have a smile on their flawless faces. On occasion I have picked Betty up half an hour early just so that I can avoid them, and not feel so inadequate.

We pulled into the carpark of the pre-school with the exhaust blowing, and parked up. All us mums entered the building and each child, on seeing their mum, ran over excitedly from the other side of the room where they were having their story, and gave them a big cuddle, and excitedly regaled stories of the day. I faux-joyfully (and perhaps a little too energetically, overcompensating for my delicate hormonal state) waved at Betty and called 'Hello darling!' Betty looked straight through me and pretended either that I wasn't there, or that I wasn't her mother. I continued to wave, but still no acknowledgment from her. So I turned away and pretended to be interested in some artwork on the walls for as long as it took for most of the other mothers and their children to leave, and then began the whole thing again 'Betty darling, mummy's here'.

Finally, after lots of prompting from a member of staff, Betty slowly made her way across the room towards me. 'Where's my daddy?' she demanded. 'Daddy's at home talking to the World Bank or something' I said. 'I want my daddy'. 'Daddy's not here, come on'. 'Where is my daddy?' She then turned to a member of staff and said 'I don't like my mummy, I like my daddy'.

Next time, Tom's picking Betty up and I'm going to do the bloody conference call.

13 comments:

Beccers said...

oh Elsie! What a day! You poor thing xxx

Jen Walshaw said...

Sounds very familiar. Although MadDad only gets to pick the boys up occasionally, they much prefer him to do it than me, even though they get less time at the partk

Elsie Button said...

hi beccers, normal service has now resumed, thank goodness!

Hi themadhouse, lovely to hear from you! tom only picks betty up on pmt days, if he can. just been over to yours and couldn't leave a comment...

Metropolitan Mum said...

Good to see that you are back in blogging mode. I missed you at times :)
Re the school run - you should consider moving back to London. Islington to be precise. If you wash your hair on a regular basis AND still have all your front teeth, you are considered posh.

Louise said...

You make me feel so much better! Anna has days when Mummy just isn't good enough compared to Daddy.

Elsie Button said...

HI MM, yes blogging in full swing again, and loving it! lol about the islington ladies...

Hi Louise, girls and their daddies eh
x

Pig in the Kitchen said...

There should be something written into the marriage ceremony about PMT. WHAT on earth was Tom thinking going ahead with the conference call? My thoughts are with you...

Pig x

Elsie Button said...

hi pig, knew you'd be with me on this one :-0

TheOnlineStylist said...

Ah they're so good at this aren't they? Small Child used to look at me when I entered the room at pre-school and snarl and say"No" and then run and hide. On several occasions I left carrying her horizontally, kicking and screaming! And on one of them I burst into tears because I was so flustered and embarrassed! I know how you feel! But it stopped when she went to big school thank goodness xxx

sadie said...

Harsh! Sort of thing my little one would do. The other day she did a drawing, and proudly said 'that's Caroline mum' my very skinny, twenty something *hissss* neighbour with bright pink hair. I altered the grimace into a smile and said 'oh that's wonderful darling'. No. I'm not hurt at all that you put so much effort into drawing a near stranger. Not in the slightest!

Then she scribbled away again, and produced and angry looking face with a big mouth. Apparently it was me, bellowing her name at her!!! Cheers for that!

It's universal. Children prefer their dads, because they are the ones that don't have to discipline/wipe bums/suggest they eat broccoli instead of Kinder eggs or say no in general!!

:O)

x

Anonymous said...

Awwww, I really feel for you! I bet the other Mums didn't even notice & were too caught up in their own stuff. Maybe Daddy will get the same treatment from Betty next time!

Lisa @ Boondock Ramblings said...

Nice one. She's a real gem, huh? :-)

Sparx said...

Oh yes. Sometimes I can be at the nursery for quite a long time before Charlie will speak to me.

It's ok, it means they are more secure than the other children, they have more trust in the love of their parents, they don't have to run over and reassure themselves at the first opportunity.

Fact, I promise!