Okay, so the title is a little misleading. You won’t know about take #1 as it was so traumatic I didn’t write about it. In a nutshell it involved a trip to House of Fraser, a smashed lava lamp, a wet floor sign, and muggins here ended up £40 lighter as I’m too honest for my own good.

I didn’t expect to be writing about toddler reins again, as I didn’t ever think we’d ever risk our sanity like that again. But sometimes pregnancy addles your brain and your just forget. Before you know it, you’ve dug the offending item out of your son’s drawers and are once again slotting his tiny arms into them. As Dexter seems to be old beyond his years, it’s already (at just 20 months) embarrassing to hold mummy’s hand in public. This leads to him constantly over-shooting the path to our house and he’ll waddle several doors down like he’s trying to find a new mummy and daddy.

Reins, in theory, offer a great solution to the runaway-toddler. He still has the freedom to race about without having mummy’s fingernails sinking into his palms, and I get to stop the little guy from running out in front of a car.

But the reality has been quite different.

For a start, I feel like I’m walking an excitable puppy. He’ll run around my ankles and I’m forced to continually step out of the loop he creates, or Bump and I face an awkward (and painful) landing. The effect is that I’m pulling out moves eerily reminiscent of my playground days in the 80′s - think Skip-it and you won’t go far wrong. Even if he does manage to trot along in a vague straight line, he’ll weave from left to right meaning you’re forever switching hands to keep hold of him. The image isn’t helped by the fact that Craig and I have a constant supply of treats in our pockets to reward him for good behaviour.

Don’t let this picture of innocence fool you…

You also seem to lose mummy points when you pop your child on a lead. Watching other children walk dutifully beside mum and dad, Craig and I are a little in awe and wondering why our little man is so desperate to evade us at every opportunity. He has no sense of fear whatsoever and will happily lose us in a shop and seek out other adults to terrorise. When you get to your knees and issue a firm “No” he’ll smirk like the kid out of Problem Child and make sure his next move is that little bit worse than the last. The truth is, we need these reins to work or I risk early labour running after him whenever we leave the house.

So yesterday, Craig and I decided to give them another go in Tesco. It was a good two hours before nap-time and we thought that allowing him some run-around time might tire him out more effectively than the usual trolley seat. I mistakenly thought I could draw him close to my legs and limit his range to minimise any indiscretions. Unfortunately however supermarket aisles are narrower than I gave them credit for and Dexter simply couldn’t resist making a grab at bottom shelf goodies. The toiletry aisle was a particular highlight and by the time he left it, the stock had undergone quite the reshuffle. With toothpaste now sitting cosily with shampoo, cotton wool with Lynx deodorants and lots of other obscure couplings, we thought we’d got away relatively lightly.

Pre-riot warm-up…

Unfortunately our confidence was misplaced and it seems Dex had spotted that the floor could do with a clean. A quick backwards glance at his handiwork revealed a trail of shower gel and a member of staff with a mop looking seriously disgruntled. I’m not quite sure how we missed the carnage!

Caught you Littlest Mills!

So that’s it now. The reins have had their last outing. We’re just going to have to face up to the fact that Dexter is an untrainable rascal and a liability. Sorry son, you’re hell-raising days are over!

Anyone else having problems reining their kids in?