things I didn't know I found annoying until I had children.

Ruby you must be a nice Mummy. After my third I am ruthless

Oh and of course, sticks and leaves.

My bag at the moment includes two rubber rats, an assortment of cars, broken crayons, spare pants, some half completed colouring in, stickers and a selection of miniature dinosaurs. No wonder I have an achy back and shoulder.

The 'can you put this in your handbag Mum?' No I can't it is my handbag for my stuff. You have got pockets. Otherwise my bag would be full of conkers, interesting looking pebbles, fir cones, etc.

Holding things.... All the time....

The questions...., always with the questions

The constant "muuuuum" before every question even though I'm in the same room. Feel like screaming "I'm stood next to you, just ask the bloody question!"

Oh and the burning need to ask a question and then NOT listening to the sodding answer....

I think we should have a quality panel for bedtime books.

If you're going to make a rhyme, make it fucking scan. Julia D is pretty good at this although the Highway Rat does my head in.

We had one called Emergency which DS had at bedtime for ever a year and the rhymes didn't scan - read them out loud author!!! If there are more words in one line than the next then it WON'T read properly however hard you try and Mummy will hide forget where she put that book.

Oh, and taking turns to press the crossing button. 9 and 5 and they still squabble. Amazing neither of them has ended up in the road already...

Oh yes, the rubbish and the carrying every damn thing.

I arrived at DD's school from work, carrying a small handbag that contained a purse, a phone, my keys and a book.
10 minutes later the same bag contained two broken crayons, a throat sweet wrapper, a hairband and a crisp packet picked up diligently from the path because they've been doing sustainability at school and it's wrong to leave litter. I also managed to carry DD's coat, cardigan, lunchbox, book bag, homework folder that doesn't bloody fit in the book bag, the picture that she did at breaktime and refuses to put in the book bag, the water bottle she doesn't want to put in the book bag because it might leak..

DD did acknowledge that I might be struggling, and generously offered to put her hairband back on

I think that every mother secretly envies the octopus.

My DC are now grown up but occasionally they still do the Muuuuuuuuum thing and last Saturday my DGS said Naaaaaaaany? Aaaaargh

(Oh, and PS - back to the Cheerios thing, I've just found three on the sofa, two on the floor in the hall, one in the bathroom and five under the microwave)

Swash

That's reminded me of a game DS used to play.
Suddenly, out of the blue he would come out with something like:

Mum - would you rather be a hedgehog or a kangaroo?
Mum - would you rather be a lion or a hippo?
Mum - would you rather be a giraffe or a frog?

And I would have to choose, giving my reasons why.
Funny now, looking back, but at the time - OH GODDDD!

I get
Mum why can you not touch a lorry?
Mum why can you not touch a lion's head?
Mum why can you not touch a witch?
Mum why can you not touch Elsa?
And so on and so on

Or even 'That wasn't the voice she had yesterday'

Bed time stories. I loved story time, I really did. Threw myself into it, I did. Different accents, different voices, like mini plays, story time was.

However, occasionally I would be so tired, so very tired. And was guilty of trying to skip a couple of pages paragraphs! But They ALWAYS Knew. 'Ooh - have you missed out a bit there, Mum?'

Yes, yes dustarr - "Stick your thumb out. Like this. No, the thumb we're trying to put the glove on. The thumb. Argghhhhhh!"

Gloves,trying to put gloves on small children is a pain.

Oh yes, the nursery-manufactured salt dough Christmas tree baubles, that each weigh a ton and look like a small glitter-covered brain. Dutifully we hang them on the tree every year. They weigh the branches right down and clonk the cat on the head as she walks past.

Playdoh is fun! Salt dough that makes permanent sculptures OTOH... We have tons of cack handed pieces of salt dough art that cannot ever be disposed of...

Oh. Play-Doh!! Play-Doh anything.

I sometimes leave it out on purpose so it dries up.
Or is that mean?

Yes Lego. Stepping on a well-placed Lego brick is painful enough to make me want to throw the lot out of the window, even though I am well aware that would be a fortune chucked away.

Lego. Found in various places over the house somehow when it was initially tipped out in one room. I hoover bits I find sometimes when I've decided if it's a crucial part to a certain model or not.

Jenga. Just finished stacking and start to play but toddler takes the first turn and the whole thing falls over. Already. The noise.

Toy soldiers. I picture the injured soldier in Toy Story every time I accidentally tread on one!

When DS turns pages and creases them by rubbing his hand across rather than picking the corner up!! Argh!

After a bedtime battle, it's a wrestle to brush teeth, then a painstakingly looong wait for DS to just. Pick. A. Book. at bedtime!
Line them all up then decides that he doesn't want to read any of the ones lined up! He wants to read that bloody Disney book that I have read 476748393 times.

I try and hide all the too-long-for-bedtime books!

DS was/is a collector. When he was very little, he used to fill all the very many pockets of his cargo trousers with little sticks, stones, conkers, the swords from the Pop Up Pirate game, Playmobil people, etc. In secondary school, I'd come across little rubbishy things in his blazer pockets that he'd found on the playing field.

As he grew up he had a special collection unit on his wall. This is STILL filled with 'valuable' tat. A putrified newt wrapped in cotton wool in it's own little box, little plastic toys from ice creams bought on holidays abroad, old coins, bits of pebble, flints and driftwood, various souvenirs. And I'm not allowed to throw any of it away (I have tried, believe me! I have tried on many occasions).

Now he is grown. One evening recently, his cousin came into the house, in the very early hours of the morning, absolutely drunk as a skunk. DS was more upset at Cousin knocking over his collection of trinkets than the fact that he woke all of us up!

I am quite certain DS will one day be that Hoarder Next Door

ancient gatherer reflex

Must be, mine have it too.