I'd walk a million miles for one of your smiles...

Another new entry for my book proposal The Dummies Guide to being a Bad Mother. I took the twins for their six week check with my doctor yesterday. I won't go in to the hell that was negotiating the tiny surgery corridors with two babies in car seats, or trying to fit doc, me, medical student and said babies and car seats into her diminutive consulting room, but the bit that left me most red around the cheeks was the smile check. 

Doc asks me 'Are they smiling at you yet?'. I respond 'Erm. No not really'. Well says doc 'Do you smile at them?'. I respond 'Erm. No not really'. 'Well,' she says 'perhaps that's why'. 

Oh dear I've failed the mummy test once again, as I must admit that when the babies aren't crying or feeding I tend to file them under not causing trouble and ignore the poor mites. So today has seen me manically grinning, singing and talking at the bemused twosome, whose completely understandable response to this volte face on the part of the mad woman left in charge of them is to close their eyes firmly as soon as they see me coming. 

I suspect this constitutes a step in the wrong direction, but I live in hope that if I keep a lid on miserable mum they will finally give in and crack me a smile.