I have never been particularly calm or patient person. I am prone to blowing my top when things don’t work out the way I’d prefer.

For example, I hate the rain cover for my double buggy with a passion. It will only work and cover both children when assembled exactly the right way, an inch wrong and your stuffed. So picture me in the street today, and it suddenly starts to rain heavily. I pull the rain cover out from under the buggy. This in itself is ridiculously difficult. The buggy in question is a Phil and Ted’s. My daughter is sat in the underneath seat, the rain cover in the basket beneath her feet. Just pulling the cover out without her ending up injured is a challenge.
Then I try and assemble the thing over the children, while getting soaked myself.
I’m literally wresting a huge unwieldy piece of plastic over my buggy’s frame. Robo Boy (my preschooler) then starts kicking his feet out against the rain cover pushing it in completely the wrong direction.
Hair wet and dripping into my eyes I resist the urge to shout at him. There are onlookers, so I use my best I’m a good mother voice and say “darling please don’t kick the cover, mummy needs you to help her by being still”. Honestly what I wanted to say was “stop it snotface or mummy’s head is going to explode!.”
Finally I get the cover in place. As I set off a bus drives past us and manages to drive through an enormous puddle. I am soaked head to foot. Worse the water has managed to get underneath the cover soaking my baby in the bottom of the buggy. I lost my temper. The onlookers where treated to me shouting expletives at the driver and stamping my feet like a toddler mid tantrum.
Did my day get any better after that you ask? Unfortunately, later that day I had another opportunity to display not only outstanding patience, but also fantastic friendship skills…

My friend and I were walking to a football class. Between us we had two four year-olds, a preschooler and two babies. Robo Boy was in the front of the aforementioned double buggy. He had insisted on carrying his Peppa Pig sticker book I had bought along to keep him entertained, while my eldest did football. As we chased our slightly out of control four year-olds down the street, disaster struck. The wind took the book out of his hands and off down the street.
My friend (with her baby in a sling) started to run after it. I was left with the other children powerless to affect the fate of the book. I imagined the book being lost and me with nothing to entertain Robo Boy. Then my friend got hold off the book but alas, the sticker page continued to blow down the street. In all honesty my friends running skills where not what I had hoped for. She was in the road baby on her back stumbling after the book.
Now, I’m embarrassed to admit this next part. Please don’t judge, or if you do keep it to yourself. What was my first thought in all this? I’d imagine you’d think it would be for the safety of my friend in the road with her baby.                                                                       Did I shout “leave the book, come out of the road” ? I wish I could say that I did.                   Unfortunately what I shouted was “Get them! The stickers are an integral part of the book.” Whoops!
In my defence there were no cars around.