It's raining, it's pouring...am I the only one who cares?

I hate the rain. I don't just find it mildly irritating, or even very annoying, I actually hate it with a passion. My whole mood is reflected by the grey, miserable cloud covering everything.

Take today. Its the first rain we've had in what?... weeks I guess. It wasn't a lot of rain, it drizzled rather than poured, and had stopped by about 930am. But it's ruined the day for me. I'm feeling really down in the dumps, and have reverted back into 'winter mode'- curled up on the sofa with a mug of tea. All I want to do is sleep, and wake up again when the sky is blue and the sun is shining. When I'll have a lot more patience with my children and my husband. I am blaming my husband for today's rain as he keeps moaning that he has to water the garden. He is therefore solely responsible for this, and any subsequent rain we get.

Irrational I know, but I can't help it. I really do hate the rain. I just wish my children did too.

But it doesn't seem to bother them in the slightest. This morning I was not happy because I didn't have the car, so we had to walk to school. I apologised to Presley about this, she looked at me like I was insane and said "It doesn't matter Mummy, we'll only get wet." This is true, and that is the problem. I hate getting all wet and soggy. Feeling the drizzle on my face, splashing through puddles and then having to dry copious raincoats and covers just gets me down. I actually loathe going out in the rain so much that I have seriously contemplated not taking Presley to school on several occasions owing to inclement weather. I only still do because I know she'd never let me hear the end of it if I didn't.

Orson hates the raincover on the pushchair... not because he doesn't like being shut in, but because he thinks the feel of rain on his face and hair is hilarious. He nearly combusted this morning when I said it was raining. he had his Buzz lightyear wellies on and was standing by the front door holding his raincoat, and had an enormous strop when I told him he was going in the pushchair. I don't have time for him to walk to school anyway, let alone stopping every few yards for him to splash in a puddle. The rain cover was kicked off at least 5 times on our journey this morning. I wouldn't bother but Chester is in the back of the buggy and looks mildly perplexed by the feeling of rain, and I don't want a wet and soggy baby with a cold.

Presley insisted on sandals for school. She is in 'summer mode' and so won't hear of going back into her shoes, and was disgusted with me for wearing jeans today instead of shorts. She seems to have developed a bad case of selective hearing again, as my shrieks of 'Don't jump in the puddles in your sandals' went unheard. How odd.

When I stop and think about it rationally, my phobia of rain could be described- at best- as slightly silly (at worst- downright idiotic.) On very wet winter days, when the kids are climbing the walls after being shut in all day, I'll sometimes bite the bullet and take them out puddle jumping. The joy on their faces as they leap up and down soaking everything within a 10ft radius always makes me realise that I should have taken them out earlier in the day, rather than staying in waiting for it to stop. Children just don't care if they have water in their wellies, or if their hair goes frizzy, they love the fact that there is pools of water everywhere for them to jump in and over.

When Presley was just 3 we had a run of lovely spring weather. I was very pregnant with Orson at the time and trying to do as many special things with her as possible before I was due. I promised her that we would go to the park for a picnic. The day was arranged, I took her to the supermarket and let her choose whatever food she wanted for us. The day came, and after weeks of warm sunny weather, we woke to see that it was grey, wet and miserable. I sadly told Presley that we couldn't go, that we'd have to have our picnic at home instead. She broke her heart and begged and pleaded with me to still take her. I gave in. She always has that effect on me. We donned wellies, raincoats and gloves (it really was that cold) and off we went.

I hate to admit it but I was glad we did go. We had a brilliant time. The entire park was deserted apart from the hardiest of dog walkers. We had all the play equipment to ourselves, and we ate our picnic in the bandstand. Yes, we were soaked to the skin. Yes, we had very wet and cold bottoms from the swings and the slide and yes, my hair looked ridiculous. But we were happy. Presley still talks about it now and always says what fun it was. And it was.

It has to be said though, the best bit was getting home and curling up together with a mug of hot chocolate.

But we did dry out... eventually.