AFTER helping my six-year-old son, Felix, get dressed in his designer jeans and hoodie, I paint my lips red and give my false eyelashes one last check in the mirror before we leave the house.
It’s Saturday morning and I breathe a sigh of relief that I’m not the sort of mum who is off to spend hours in a grotty soft play centre, surrounded by screaming kids begging for a Happy Meal.
Annette says she’d rather ‘stick pins in my eyes’ than do ‘mundane mum stuff’[/caption]
I’d rather stick pins in my eyes than subject myself to that mundane mum stuff.
Instead, I’m taking Felix to a private tennis lesson in a local park, followed by a bottomless brunch at a 5-star central London hotel.
This isn’t a special occasion – this is exactly what life for Felix always looks like.
Steak dinners, afternoon teas with a couple of ‘select’ mums and days out in Harrods are our normal.
Some might argue that Felix is ridiculously spoiled, but I call it giving him a ‘refined palate’.
I’m not rolling in cash, either. I’m a single parent who makes a living as a writer, with a side hustle selling vintage clothes online.
The latest research shows that raising a child from birth to 18 costs parents an average of £260,000.
So I spend no more than £30 a year on clothes for myself, preferring to wear the same vintage dress for years.
I’ll often visit a car boot sale to see what I can pick up for a few pounds rather than buying new.
Felix’s dad, who I split from just as he was born, contributes financially, buying him clothes from designer brands like Ralph Lauren and Barbour, as well as putting money towards the cost of our days out.
But while Felix eats steak and sushi, I make do with Too Good To Go dinner bags – leftovers from my local M&S – that cost between £3.50 and £4.
And I walk everywhere instead of wasting money on petrol or trains.
Instead of paying for expensive trips to theme parks, I spend my hard-earned money on select outings and the very finest things in life for my son.
With theme parks charging up to £300 for a family-of-four, I refuse to pay crazy prices to subject myself to hour-long queues and tantrum-throwing youngsters.
My idea of hell is sitting in a grubby activity centre full of bellowing babies, germs and noise.
Some might call me selfish and say I’m putting my own enjoyment before Felix, but this is the life he has always known.
I’m a stickler for good manners and my son isn’t spoiled just because he rolls sushi if he’s bored, instead of spending hours glued to a screen like lots of other boys his age.
Felix was two months old when I went along to a local mum and baby group, hoping to meet like-minded mums who put their needs first and who weren’t all consumed by motherhood.
But there was talk of nothing except leaky boobs, sleep schedules and weaning.
This baby-obsessed nattering was my idea of hell. And when the class music started up and the other mums began clanging on those old school triangles, looking like they were in heaven, I wanted to run.
I’d offer Felix the best cuts of salmon sushi at six months old, writes Annette[/caption]
While Felix eats steak, I make do with Too Good To Go dinner bags, says Annette[/caption]
Annette enjoys cake and coffee at cafe with Felix[/caption]
I made a pact with myself there and then to return to my Italian roots – my mum was born there – a country where the child fits into your life, not the other way around.
I started taking Felix to restaurants in the evening, having a glass of wine whilst catching up with friends.
I’d sleep-trained him from birth, so he was the perfect baby, never making a fuss as I got to unwind.
At six months he began to eat solids and I’d offer him the best cuts of steak and salmon sushi.
I wanted him to know what quality food looked and tasted like, rather than feeding him rubbish like chicken nuggets.
And if I’m honest, I wanted my life back as quickly as possible.
Now, I think nothing of spending £10 a day on Felix’s after-school snacks of wholefoods, like fresh sushi, cold-pressed juices, organic fruit boxes or pots of organic ice cream.
I take him to nearby cafes for cake when he has homework to do and think nothing of giving him breakfast in bed just for the sake of it.
In my eyes it’s worth every penny to make him happy.
My idea of hell is sitting in a grubby activity centre full of bawling babies, germs and noise
When he started school aged five, I made a beeline for the mums I thought might be up for the refined vibe too. And now I have found a couple who also like to embark on fun adventures with us.
Doing things that kids want to do such as soft play, role-playing, and adventure playgrounds is like nails down a blackboard.
If Felix gets invited to a playdate at a soft play gym, I normally say we’ve got errands to run.
Some of the mums I’ve met are into ‘gentle parenting’, but that’s not in my parenting vocabulary either.
One school mum had an angry five-year-old who kept lashing out at other kids. Instead of reprimanding him, she would smile gently and say: “I see you are feeling unhappy. Shall we talk about what sadness feels like?”
I instantly deleted her from my list of afternoon tea companions.
Felix has a few select friends who also enjoy caviar on their pasta and dancing at London hotels, so he doesn’t get bored at these places.
Another reason why I want Felix to have the very best of everything is because he has a rare bleeding disorder called Glanzmann’s. It means his blood doesn’t clot well and we often have routine and emergency stints in hospital.
So it is important he eats well and enjoys days out so he feels good when he’s not in hospital.
If Felix gets invited to a play date at a soft-play centre, I normally say we’ve got errands to run[/caption]
It’s not that I don’t ever let Felix play in a park or run around getting messy, but when there are so many nice places in London to eat at and visit, it makes sense for us to enjoy them.
He still has plenty of friends, so I don’t worry about his development either.
Once, after leaving a particularly rough stay in hospital, I said he could do anything he wanted that day. He said he wanted to pick out chocolates in Harrods.
As for dating single dads, I steer clear because I am set firmly on the sort of parent I want to be and I’m not prepared to veer off my path.
The idea of a blended family makes me want to stick my head in a blender. The majority OF MEN? would want me to help with running around after their snotty kids.
I want to be shopping in Selfridges at the weekend, not slumming it while playing step-mummy to someone else’s children.
Some might argue that Felix is spoiled, but I call it giving him a refined palate
Instead, I prefer older, solvent men – or younger, hunky carefree types who share my appreciation for the finer things.
Life is about priorities and other mums can enjoy the luxe life, too.
Whether it’s cutting corners by not buying new clothes, or skipping expensive days out at theme parks, it is doable.
As the old saying goes, it’s better to be crying into champagne than into tap water.
Posh tot Felix with a Harrods concierge[/caption]
