a rare rant: Sick and tired? Then stay away.

I'm not one to court controversy, I rarely rant in a public domain and debate is something I approach with a diplomatic head.

Is it because I am a people pleaser? Afraid to upset the apple cart, scared of creating a negative attitude towards myself, fear that I will offend? Probably - the insecurities of my teenage years are hard to shift. But every now and then something crops up that really makes my blood boil. It irks me so much that I feel the urge to phone someone, anyone, to let off some steam.

If you, or your child has been mopping a sweaty brow, moping around in slippers and gown, unable to face the world, don't come knocking on my door.

If you want to tell me how you have spent the morning cleaning up your/ your childs poo and sick, send me an email or give me a call and yes, I will be sympathetic. Tell me to my face and I will take a step back.

If you have dragged yourself out of the house, onto the tube and into the office, I don't admire your tenacity, your commitment to your work. I am actually rather annoyed.

Please, go home. Have a Lemsip. Drink some soup.

Yes, yes, I know I cannot wrap myself or my children up in cotton wool. I should know. My daily commute involves germ dodging, but if I catch something from holding the pole in the train carriage that's just down to bad luck.

At a recent Messy Play class, whilst the rest of the under twos stripped down to their vests and got dirty in the paint, one child spent the entire forty-five minutes in his mothers arms. His face flushed bright red, brow clammy, eyes sad, expression gormless, nose streaming, cough chesty. He was clearly unwell and I am sure would rather have been at home in his pj's watching Thomas the Tank Engine. His mum meanwhile spent the entire forty-five minutes yapping to her chums about which local schools she has visited. I spent the entire forty-five minutes keeping Little Miss P a safe distance from the spluttering.

On another occasion, I met up with some mum chums for a play date. I instantly observed how one of the little 'uns was looking a bit peaky, he was not acting his usual bonny self. "Is he alright?" I asked. "Well no, he's had this gastro whatsit that is going round - diarrhea, the works," said mum breezily. I could feel my breath catch as my chest tightened and back bristled. "Well lets keep the kids in the prams and do a circuit of the park," I quickly suggested.

I understand how a trip out to a group, a tea, a play date is something we look forward to but honestly, there's always next week.