My daughter likes my childminder more than she likes me: on finding excuses never to play

I once wrote that I didn’t envy my childminders: for their young, willowy frames, and beautiful dark-eyed looks; even for the great opportunities they have on the horizon – one is in a successful band – I recognise how tough they have it, these young twentysomethings, trying to forge careers, find houses, partners: a future.

But today, as the more regular half of our beautiful duo turned up, I felt a pang of envy as I listed the chores she has on her list, that would, if they could, be carried out by me: the dentist for Jonah, teeth still hurting; back to school haircuts, and, if she has time, and the will – because for some reason it’s always a flashpoint – new shoes.

She has my cash card, but she also has my daughter’s heart, a fact for which I should be grateful, but as I left this morning, swooping in for a cursory kiss while Ava snuggled up on Helorgi’s lap, whispering secrets of today’s projects and plans, I felt sidelined, unnecessary, surplus to requirements.

There had been fireworks over breakfast. Minecraft something or other, scream and slap – not from me, THAT rarely happens – but the pair of them erupted into squabbles. I had made them empty the dishwasher; given each a little treat for their efforts – a pink marshmallow for Ava for her regular duty of sorting the cutlery, but sugar on an empty stomach had an undesired side effect. She’s been having hissy fits, my little pussy cat: episodes of pouting, and alarmingly, growling, as she struggles to bite down on the temper that she’s probably inherited from me. When Helorgi turns up, I played evil stepmother to Helorgi’s fairy godmother, she who never shouts, looks amazing in hotpants (although this is more of an advantage to Tom) and has the stamina and time to play Monopoly for hours.

Oh, I don’t doubt my daughter’s affection, not for a minute. She is often the first to tune in, worryingly, when Mummy starts to lose it, snuggling up with easy cuddles and big china doll eyes. She’s generally easy going enough, and, compared to number one child, a breeze. But because she’s got her big brother, she often doesn’t need me – a fact I have been grateful for many a time, but in many ways I’m also starting to regret – perhaps, Gina Fording her as an infant, for all she was a contented little baby, detached her more than I’d like. And I know I’ve opted out sometimes because it’s easier. And I was simply worn out by Jonah.

But, I wasn’t paid a wage as a stay at home mum, and eventually, your enthusiasm for playing games, singing songs and reading stories starts to wane, particularly, when, like most new young mothers, you take a running start and try to do too much too soon with your exciting, terrifying new companion. It takes a while to realise that parenthood is a marathon, not a sprint.

I made more of an effort when I, myself, became a childminder. Tom was out of work, so I took on a little boy to have some some money coming in while I looked after my own two, giving me more impetus to interact in the park, and get out toys that I would inevitably have to pick up again, even, sometimes, to lose my adult need to get things done and live in the moments with them. But inevitably, looking after a two, four and six-year-old took its toll, and whenever there was another adult in the fame, I took my chance to escape.

If I can be a lazy parent on holiday, it’s because I need a break too, but I also only have myself to blame for not always being able to come up with the goods at the weekend either.

Beautiful Helorgi is always going to be a better substitute parent than me because that is her job, and she does it brilliantly – part-time, and paid. And let’s not forget, I do a double shift. It’s me that has to be a taskmaster, so I am often reluctant to play the clown. But I know, deep down, that I should take the time to play more. Childhood will pass quickly for all it sometimes feels endless. But when you’re shopping, cooking, working, cleaning, dieting, exercising, homeworking, bath and bedtiming, it can  hard to find the energy.

Ava’s easy second-childness may also be the cause of her late blooming rage. Jonah and his sometimes difficult ways have always garnered that bit more attention. Now, at nearly six, she’s getting her own back.