Another post from my archives, originally posted March 2005. I like this one because I could write something identical now about my current three year old, Ben. Clearly I’m not getting any better at this parenting gig.

Harry, my discerning three year old, knows just how to make me feel like I’m not quite the perfect mother he has obviously read about in the parenting manuals.

While he has had a cold, I have left a drink and a tissue by his bed so that he doesn’t scream “Mummy I need a tissue, I NEED A TISSUE” first thing in the morning, thus allowing me a few precious moments to open my eyes in peace.

When I went in to dress the boys this morning, he tells me earnestly “Mummy, I had a drink and blowed my nose this morning.”

Busy with William who was biting my bottom – this is his new game, and I have to say I really don’t care much for his idea of fun games when they involve my bottom, or biting, or in this case, both – Harry clearly wasn’t impressed with my response. Which was a cursory nod and “Okay”. I mean I do multi-tasking and all that, but until the first cup of coffee the multi-tasking, multi-response, multi-eyes-in-the-back-of-my-head and so on is, well, limited.

After a short pause, perhaps while he was waiting for a more considered response, I hear an indignant “Mummy!”

“Yes, baby?”

I look up to see Harry poised with his drink in one hand, tissue in the other.

“You watching now Mummy?” he remonstrates.

I nod.

“Right. Then let me do it again for you,” he sighs.

Oh yes, he knows just how to make me feel like I’m not quite the mother he had in mind.