Last week we went to Cheshire Oaks. I learned one thing from this trip. Don’t ever take a toddler if you actually want to do some shopping or purchase any items. I knew it was a bad idea in the first place, but it was raining, and we couldn’t think of anything else to do.

First hurdle is actually getting there when your child repeatedly says, “Mummy please don’t go on the motorway, go a different way” and “your going too fast, I don’t like it”, even though I was persistently hovering at the just under 60 miles an hour mark. I can see that long journeys are going to be a problem from now on.

After attempting to have a look round about 10 shops but giving up within the first five minutes of entering each one, we headed for lunch but not before spending 45 minutes on the park that McArthur Glen conveniently decided to build slap bang in the middle of the shopping centre. I enjoy travelling 40 miles for my child to go on a park as opposed to going to one 10 minutes away from our house. Superb.

There’s no better choice than Thornton’s Café to have lunch with an already hyperactive, chocolate obsessed, Schizophrenic two-year-old who immediately starts screaming for Freddo’s as soon as we enter the shop. You get a free chocolate with every hot drink purchased but before I could even take a second glance at it, it was in Charlie’s mouth. Unfortunately for him, it had nuts in, so he proceeded to spit it out all over his t-shirt and the table. I couldn’t help but do a secret laugh inside. That will teach the greedy little sod to think twice in future.

As my mum nipped to the toilet and I fed Jorgie a bottle, Charlie decided to go and rearrange the Thornton’s window display but for some reason the shop assistant didn’t like this, so we made a swift exit as another box of chocolates fell out of the window.

Miraculously, I managed to buy some items in Gap but only because I let Charlie play hide and seek in the clothing rails, although seeing a small child’s head pop out whilst looking at t-shirts did almost give some customers a heart attack.

When we got home, Charlie couldn’t wait to tell Kyle what a fantastic day he’d had whilst I limped in with my two pitiful hoodies from Gap. He then decided during tea that he didn’t like broccoli and decided to throw it all over the floor but not to worry as he changed his mind the next day and now he likes it again.

We also went to Daisy Nook Country Park last week and whilst walking Charlie began to dance from side to side before revealing that a poo was imminently going to come out. We just got his pants down in time to see his large turd rolling down the hill at speed. Winning.

On Thursday morning I dropped Charlie off at nursery. We are still having a few teething problems with his toilet training at nursery, so I decided I would take him to the nursery toilet to show him it was no scarier than the toilet at home. I left Jorgie in her car seat in the main nursery room but came out to her screaming as 10 excited little faces had surrounded her and were all talking and pointing at once.  I felt so sorry for her. It’s bad enough having one of the tiny terrors to deal with let alone 10 at once. Stuff of nightmares!

I went to Aerobics after I had dropped him off and the usual instructor was on holiday, so we had a very camp, jolly and enthusiastic replacement. I have never enjoyed exercise so much in my life as I shook my little tushi for all it’s worth to huge hits like the locomotion, macarena, the twist, Gangnam style and take on me. Hours of fun.

Charlie was tired when I picked him up from nursery. He didn’t like anyone or anything and I lost count of the number of times he threw himself down on the floor and wouldn’t get up. First, he wanted biscuits, then he wanted his favourite toy hippo, George, then he wanted picking up and then chocolate. I said no to all these things but instead of taking it out on me he decided to take it out on my poor mum. He kept coming out with more and more absurd things “I don’t like Nanna, Nanna can stay at home, Nanna can’t come to the play centre with us, Nanna can’t come to our house again and I don’t love Nanna”. This was until he finally shook off his mood and revealed that he didn’t mean all those things and in fact he was just joking. So funny. Not.

I ended the week meeting my work friends for lunch to celebrate a 60th but not before driving down a one-way street that I have known about for 30 years and then driving to my work car park instead of the restaurant we were meant to be meeting at. I love my kids but being with them 24/7 is seriously making me lose the plot. I might start calling myself Dizzy Lizzy. The official Dizzy Blonde.

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