The (Sand) Pits

There are lots of worthy adversaries us supermamas come up against in our day to day lives. I wonder what a Family Fortunes style mummy poll would bring out as the top 5? I can probably guess a few of the biggies – Naps, Tantrums, Teething, British Summer Time, Mr Tumble…

Well, I’ll take all of those and raise you. 

The Sandpit at the park.

I can honestly say in this I have met my match. You are my NEMESIS.

It always seems like a good idea at the time.

It’s across the road, abundant with lovely little kiddies to keep toddler company, plenty of nap-condusive fresh air and you get to leave most of the mess behind you (I say most as you’ll likely be washing sand off the sides of the bath for at least a week but hey, that’s where I like to give toddler the shower head and tell him to go crazy hosing down his army men). Win.

Not so much. 

You’ll soon learn.

Enter if you dare.

Because anything, ANYTHING that goes within a one metre radius of the sandpit is magically swallowed into its unfathomable depths never to be seen again. I HATE to bring up that scene in Never Ending Story with poor Artax and the Swamp of Sadness but yeah it’s basically like that….

Erm… great…I really, really, shouldn’t have gone there should I. Now we’re all sobbing frigging buckets into our cuppas and will probably need to scoff an entire packet of jaffa cakes just to try and erase the terrifying image from our memories. Let’s send it back to being locked in that deep dark place along with the memories of the times we used to go OUT out *sobs*.

Ok, so getting back – Sandpit. Yes. Do not enter. Swallows Everything.

You’ll most likely see several mamas crazily scrambling on their hands and knees, madly flinging sand into the air in all directions trying to find whatever it is that’s  disappeared.

Why oh why H insists on taking a dozen toys with him to the sandpit I just do not know. And moreover WHY do I always agree!? And of course he doesn’t choose those bleeping Trolls he got free in a couple of Happy Meal bribes (hideous and practically bald after one to many visits to the toddler hairdressers, who quite honestly scare the bejesus out of me, I SWEAR they come alive at night and plot world domination).

No it’s got to be the ones you actually want him to take good care of (read: are loathed to replace AGAIN because it’s such an f*ing mental and monetary ordeal to do so.) Yep I’m talking about his bloody collection of Schleich animals – you know the ones – with their confusing ‘apparently’ colour coded pricing system. You are NEVER gonna work that bad boy out. Even if you think you’ve beaten it you really haven’t. You never will. 

ME (to myself) “YES this IS the £3.99 Ankylosaurus! 

ALSO ME: Sh*t! It’s the sodding £17.99 Amargasaurus. Obviously. (I watch enough bleeping Andys Prehistoric Adventures.) 

Of course by now you’re at the till so it’s far too late. 

Hands over debit card, crying. 

These guys are GENIUSES. 

Still crying.

If you’re lucky though, the sandpit will randomly spit up some other poor kids well-loved treasures lost circa 1993 (I’ve heard there are some VERY valuable Beanie Babies out there. I still live in hope. Mama needs a new Prada bag…)

So, I reluctantly watch H toddle off to see his toys meet their sandy maker. I know exactly how this is going to end. And I really don’t have any mama energy left today to do anything about it. 

At least if he’s happily occupied enough for 10 mins or so and baby is contentedly shoving his toes into his mouth in the buggy I can catch up on some admin (*coughs* Instagram)… just better look up once in a while and check he’s….

ME: “Oh dear! What happened to your hat?

HIM: Looks at the sand.

ME: “Right. Ok well stand up and come here I’ll put some more suncream on yo… What the f*ck! Where are your sodding shoes?!”

HIM: Looks at the sand.

ME: “Fantastic! But you’ve managed not to lose your Gigantasaurus right because you remember how much wine mummy drunk when you lost the last two…”

HIM: Blank.

ME: (mentally picturing how much gin I have left in the cabinet at home) “Awesome sauce! I’m SUPER excited about our next adventure to replace it!” 

HIM: “Me too mummy!! Maybe I can get a Gallimimus as well!!!” 

ME: (Sobs) “OK. Well I guess we’d better get going, mummy’s suddenly feeling very erm, ‘parched’ – let me just go and check whether your brothers got his… FFS WHERES THE F*CKING BABY!!!!!”

HIM: Looks at the sand. 

ALSO HIM: It’s ok mummy we don’t need the baby because look I found this awesome cool lego man with no head and only one hand! 

ME: Shrugs. Guess I’ll save a few pennies in nappies. So I can buy more gin. 

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