Toothache

Meet the Wiggles. They've been entertaining the children of Australia for fifteen years with their singing and dancing, crap songs and dubious aquaintances, Dorothy the Dinosaur, Henry the Octopus (who never swims alone, kids), Wag the Dog and Captain Feathersword.

Some days, spending time with a toddler is delightful. They make you laugh with the things they say, the way they run delightedly towards a dog, the faces they make. Those sorts of days don't make interesting reading though. It's the bad days that make a story, the days I call "Toothache" because of the relentless, gnawing demands and tantrums, the endless questions they already know the answer to, then the same questions asked all over again.

On days like these, I thank God for The Wiggles and Timtam biscuits, the only two tricks up the sleeve to buy a few minutes of peace for myself.

It was a gorgeous day today, 24 degrees with an endless blue sky, parrots swooping around. I knew it was going to be a toothache day because Ella woke up at 5am. This isn't a good time for her to wake up, it means she spends the rest of the day tired and grumpy, and given that you've been awake since 5am, you don't have the energy to deal with it in a jolly-mummy kind of way.. It was still dark so she lay in her cot grizzling until twenty to seven, when I gave in and got her up. It's not a very sociable time, 6.40am. Ella wants playdoh or paints almost immediately, I want strong coffee.

I had a plan to take Ella to the beach at Parsley Bay today and get some lunch at the beach kiosk. I phoned Kate to see whether she was free.

Kate's probably not somebody I'd hang out with in the UK. She's nice enough, but she's one of those people who always needs to be a passenger because she can't find her way around. She won't drive on motorways, never comes up with a suggestion. It means always taking a back seat and letting other people do the work, which is tiring if you have to be that other person. She's also the sort who talks and talks on the phone no matter what's going on at your end. Your house could be burning down loudly in the background, complete with sirens, and she'd still crack on with her chattering.

"Yeah" she said "I've got nothing planned, but I don't fancy the beach. Bradley will want to go into the water and I don't want him to get wet, he might get cold feet".

I should have stuck to my guns and gone to the beach alone but I suggested Lyne Park instead. Kate didn't know where it was. "Give me an hour" I said, "I need to have a shower and make a picnic for Ella. I'll phone when I'm leaving and you can follow me". Yep, you can follow me to a place I don't really want to go. I need to learn to say no.

An hour later I phoned her back. The phone rang and rang. I tried again a second and third time. Ella was grizzling, whining, pulling at my trousers so we left the flat and got into the car. I tried Kate a fourth time, drove to the block where she lives and tried again but still no reply, so we drove away. I don't know which flat is hers, I couldn't ring the bell.

She rang me five minutes later, while I was driving. I probably sounded a bit irritated, not least because we were now dressed for the park and not the beach, we didn't have the bucket and spade. I was fed up.

"Sorry, I was on the phone"

"Oh, we're in the car, we're already on Carrington Road"

"You said you'd phone me. I don't know where the park is"

"I rang you five times. I thought you'd gone out. Ella's really grouchy, we needed to get out of the flat"

"Oh, there's no engaged tone on the telephone. It just rings out".

I turned the car back to get her and by the time we got to Lyne Park, Ella was in full-blown crying mode. On the park she insited on carrying a football then got upset because she didn't have her hands free to climb up the ladders. She cried for food then threw it on the floor for the birds. She raided Bradley's sandwich box and started throwing that as well. A cockroach landed on my knee. I shrieked. Kate kept talking.

Eventually I strapped her into the pushchair and we headed for the cafe.

The cafe had no ice-creams, just lollies on sticks, which I bought. Kate was still talking incessantly, Bradley sitting on a chair like an angel, happily licking his lolly. Ella stomped about the cafe with her lolly dripping all over the floor, down her legs, covering her shoes. Listening to Kate and watching Ella left me no further processing capacity with which to read the menu. Instead I pointed randomly at a cheese and ham foccacia on the counter "I'll have one of those, and a long black coffee with milk on the side". It wasn't what I wanted at all.

Ella covered herself in the chocolate lolly and tried to feed it to a shih-tzu while I ate my lunch and responded to Kate's chattering with nods and sympathetic "mmm"s. The dog's American owner started talking to me at the same time, which didn't deter Kate from continuing to bend the other ear. All this between mouthfuls of sandwich and sitting on the edge of my seat in case I needed to leap off and chase Ella. Beam me up scotty.

"Oh by the way, I rang Yvonne. She's meeting us in the park but she might be some time".

"But we've finished in the park" I said. "Ella's in no mood to go back there".

Kate's phone rang. It was Yvonne. Kate handed the phone to me so I could direct her to Lyne Park, still eating my lunch. She arrived half an hour later, at which point I'd truly had enough. "What's up with Ella?" said Yvonne immediately. "I've never seen her so grumpy".

Kate jumped in before I had chance to respond. "You know what, Sarah, you look a bit tense. Perhaps she picks up on that. Perhaps that's why she whinges".