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Venting ...

Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy. It's not often I get excited about a breakthrough in mummying, but this was a breakthrough. And a good one. A truly new idea.

It revolved around venting. All those things you wanted to say to your kids, but kept bottled up inside? Now you could purge yourself.

Get all those soul-destroying sentences that you just couldn't say to your kids (however much you wanted to) out in the open. Or if not in the open, at least into a Word document.

It was just a brilliant, brilliant idea – venting in writing. To then be deleted, or perhaps kept, saved in a secret location to present to your kids when they whinged about their own kids way down the track.

Naturally, within 24 hours, I had already vented in several different documents in several different fonts and typefaces (one does like to be creative when it comes to parenting). Let us take a quick skip through just a few of my mind-monologues…

The water bottle

Listen, kid. I've just about had it with you pinching my water bottle. I'm cranky enough most of the time. You don't want to see me cranky and dehydrated. Now you've nicked off with it the moment my back was turned, of course you're going to do one of two things. Either you'll have a mouthful and pass it back (along with some lovely floating breadcrumbs), or you'll spill.

Oh, wait. There you go. Option b.

Most of it's on the ground now and seeing as we're at playgroup, I'll have to give the very boring 'don't waste water' speech like I'm a mummy who keeps up with the daily percentage of water in our dams.

I'll have to do it really loudly, too, so everyone can hear.

Fantastic, you've also managed to spill three drops on your t-shirt in the process and we all know how you can't bear that, so we'll have to fish around in the baby bag with our fingers crossed in the hope that we've got another t-shirt for you to change into. Great, we don't.

Stop screaming! It's three drops of water! It'll dry in less than a minute!

Oh, all right already, come here. Just to shut you up, I'll do the old mummy switcheroo (take the t-shirt off and turn it around, making the front the back).

Honestly, haven't you cottoned on to this yet? Sometimes I wonder about you…

The playground

Why do I bring you to the playground? You never want to play on any of the equipment! You're supposed to be running yourself ragged in the hope that I'll get an afternoon nap, but the only energy you ever want to expend is used frisking the baby bag for treats.

I can't believe that you have the audacity to get out of the car and run over to the playground, turn around, cross your arms and say, 'Wot you got?'. Who taught you to do that? Stop searching through my bag like you're a customs inspector and get out of my wallet already.

Coins aren't for playing. Or for putting in your mouth. Or for choking on.

See, I told you you'd choke. I told you you'd turn blue!

No, you can't eat your brother's rusk. Don't take it from him. Oh, here (throws banana). That's 'Wot I got'. I wouldn't want you to starve.

No, I told you not to run over to that dog. Wait for me (try desperately to keep up, but am weighed down by stroller and baby bag).

It's a huge German Shepherd and will bite your head off when you scream at it.

Oh, look, the dog's gone. But here's a baby. No, leave its dummy alone. You never wanted a dummy when you were a baby. Why do you want every dummy you see now? Oh, look, another dog. Don't run over there without me. Do you have some kind of radar that alerts you to the fact that I'm breastfeeding and can't sprint after you? Stop, I said. Wait for me…

In the gym parking lot

What is this door thing lately? Why do you feel the need to test every single car door handle we go past? If I say, 'Not your car' one more time, I think I'll have to be institutionalized.

Oh, great. It must be the yummy mummies get tight tummies class at the gym today, because look at all the flash cars here this morning.

Why are you drawn to testing out the handles on the most expensive cars with the loudest alarms? If this is your life's calling, why don't you go the whole hog, reach inside and pinch their mobiles while you're at it?

Oh, yeah, very funny. I like how you just pointed out the sleek convertible black Porsche, looked up at me and told me it's, 'Not your car'. Hilarious.

Because I'd be able to fit two kids, the groceries, the stroller and a vomiting cat that needs to be taken to the vet in the back of that little number. 'Not your car'. Rub it in, why don't you?

Toilet training

I've told you a million times before – you only get a Smartie when you do a poo in the toilet. Nothing else. A poo, understand? Not a wee, or a 'toot', as you call it, but a poo. And no little nuggets like yesterday. I mean a proper poo. A Smartie-worthy poo. No, I don't think so. You know very well there's no poo under all that wasted toilet paper.

I'm not as dumb as I look, you know.

Mealtimes

No you aren't getting a treat – you didn't eat any of your dinner.

No, eating one bean does not count as eating dinner. No way. No treat tonight. And don't ask your dad because he won't give you one either.

Oh, wait, it looks like he will. How lovely for you. I should put both of you in the naughty corner, except 31 minutes in the naughty corner would be a treat for your father. He would probably take a good book and have the time of his life.

Bedtime

(Three minutes after being tucked up).

Hey! Stop that crying! You'll wake your brother up! What do you mean, 'Doggy'? Are you talking about that dog barking three streets away?

Anyway, it doesn't matter if there's a dog barking outside. It's 7.30pm and you're meant to be in bed. Asleep. No, it doesn't matter if you can hear a possum, either. The possum can't get you. It's outside. So's the dog. They can't get in through the window.

Yes, if it comes to it, I'll 'save you'.

Yes, you're quite right. The dog and the possum should go to the naughty corner. Together.

Now what? You want what?

Oh… you want a kiss goodnight. Oh. All right, then, there you go.

And a what? A 'pat'? Sigh. Typical. You've broken me down again.

Now I'm going to have to sit here and pat your hair and it's very hard to be cross with you and vent into Word documents when you're cute and tired and cuddly and want kisses and pats