Mummy carry me please….


How can such a simple request reduce me to tears in the middle of a field surrounded  by my 2 year old daughter and my 3 dogs. So much for a calm and relaxing dog walk before the school run. 

One day I will miss those words and those soft little arms reaching round my neck, but now they fill me with dread. 

The request to be carried by Harriet is made numerous times a day, sometimes even when we move from one room to the next. She is what people called strong willed (insert stubborn) and full of character (again insert stubborn). Refusal to bow down to her request to be carried normally results in her clinging to my legs, crying, screaming and trying her hardest to trip me up when I endeavour to get past her. This battle occurs during the school run twice a day and on our daily dog walk five days a week. Or in the case of the dog walk seven days a week. Now up until last week I would have given in and carried her but I appear to have a couple of prolapsed discs in my back  (nothing to do with lugging approximately 15kg on my hip, obviously) so I have to use picking up as a last resort.

I am fully aware that my picking her up is going to have made the situation worse, but too late for that now. So for now I use a hop skip and a jump technique to avoid her grasp and try to drag her along behind me kicking and screaming. I will also point out that this is all carried out while she is dressed for summer or early autumn at a push, can I get her to wear a coat…. A subject for another day. Earlier in the week I bought her a scooter to ride to school on but this has not left the house yet, this week we have completed the school run with a toy lawnmower, a toy shopping trolley and a tricycle. I have realised all this does is make it more dangerous for myself, Harriet and other drivers and pedestrians on school run and give me something else to carry.

I am out of ideas so am throwing it open to you lovely lot…The buggy is a non starter, piggy back and shoulders do not cut it either…

Ideas needed pretty please. 

Tim Reeve