I’ve learned some valuable lessons about family life in the last couple of weeks. The whole ‘Jude Law – affair with the nanny’ debacle has taught me that, if I’m ever rich enough to employ a resident childcare expert (oh, I can dream), I should make sure that she looks like Mrs Doubtfire.
I’ve learned that Supernanny’s naughty corner technique is useless in open spaces.
And those photos of forty-one-year-old mother of two Elle McPherson, looking like a goddess in nothing but a cowboy hat and a bikini have reinforced my belief that Yummy Mummies should be outlawed.
Okay, so I’m bitter and twisted, but only because my one attempt at cowboy chic went downhill faster than Lance Armstrong on a chopper. On holiday last month, I tried out a natty wee Texan number.
‘What do you think?’ I asked husband, as I twirled in a Stetson. ‘Trendy, sexy and alluring?’
‘Hoss from Bonanza,’ was the reply.
Dejected, I decided just to buy them for the kids and kill two birds with one stone: prevent any risk of sunburn while allowing them to impersonate a fine, upstanding, positive role model – Woody, the good-guy cowboy sheriff from Toy Story.
It was all going so well until my youngest decided to plump for a life of intergalactic crime.
I took Callan, four, and Brad, three to the cinema. I walked in with two wee cowboys, strutting their stuff like they were en route to the Alamo. Aw, they were gorgeous. But at some point during the movie Brad had a juice, a banana and a personality transplant. As we were leaving, I handed over his headgear.
‘Here you go honey, put your hat on.’
‘No. I don’t want to be Woody. I’m the Evil Emperor Zurg.’
I was stunned – this is the child who is normally the poster boy for reasonable behaviour.
‘But, but, but… Come on hon, put your hat on.’
I plonked his hat on his napper, as I took his hand to cross the car park. I was so busy checking left and right that it wasn’t until I got to the car that I realised that the hat had been abandoned halfway across.
I immediately adopted phase one of my tried and tested disciplining technique – possible only because I’ve been too skint to get the Botox done this summer: the raised eyebrow of warning. I was rewarded with crossed arms, a defiant stare and a petted lip that reached his cowboy boots.
Panic set in. Exposed area, not a naughty corner in sight and at least twenty people watching what was fast turning into the biggest stand-off outside of a cowboy flick.
I crouched down to his eye level, and in my very best serious mummy voice said, ‘Come on, we’re going back over there and we’re going to pick up that hat.’
‘No.’
‘Yes we are, Brad. Right now.’
‘No.’
‘We’re going to go back over there and you’re going to pick up that hat.’
‘N…’ You get the picture.
Patience may be a virtue and good things may come to those who wait, but ten minutes and about three hundred point blank refusals later, the Evil Emperor Zurg was still more stubborn than cellulite. But surrender wasn’t an option. I took a deep breath and reminded myself that I’m a mature, intelligent adult who is more than capable of coming up with a mature, intelligent way to deal with a three-foot sheriff with an identity crisis.
‘We’re going to pick up that hat right now or your Toy Story DVD is going in the bin.’
For the first time, I registered hesitation. The lip started to tremble. The feet started to tap. A wee hand closed a little tighter around mine and there were the very beginnings of a nod.
Victory! I straightened up, not an easy task when you’ve lost all feeling in your legs, looked left, looked right and… just as we were about to take that first triumphant step, a big white van came into the car park and rolled right over the hat.
Cue floods of tears, uncontrollable sobs, and a wail so piercing that three people rushed out to switch off their car alarms.
Still, on the bright side, I may have a three-year-old with no hat, but we’ll never be short of a frisbee.
More lessons in life: patience is not a virtue, good things don’t come to those who wait, and wherever I lay my hat? That’s where some bloody big transit van will run over it.