A day in the life of my toddler


Well, I’m awake! Don’t my parents know it’s time to get up and play? Oh, Mum’s bringing me into their bed. I’ll lie still and breathe deeply just until they think I’ve fallen back to sleep… Then BAM! I’ll sing my very loud and beautiful rendition of E-I-E-I-OHHHH while sticking my fingers up their noses for good measure. 


Daddy’s alarm has gone off! Hooray! This means he’ll definitley take me down stairs to watch CBeebies. Wait… Dad, where are you going? The toilet?! Did you not realise that we have to go downstairs RIGHT NOW or I’m going to make your life hell?! Right, you asked for it, I’m about another piss drop away from a bitch fit. Watch this. 


Dad’s not making his breakfast quick enough. Im tired of waiting for him to sit with me whilst we watch postman pat together. Im going to cry and whinge until he does just that. 


What’s that you’ve got, Dad? Crunchy Nut?! I fucking LOVE Crunchy Nut! Could I just have some of that? Give me that spoon. Dad looks a bit miffed… I’ll give him the puppy dog eyes. Yes, that’s worked! He’s gone and got his own bowl of cereal… there’s more in his bowl though… that’s mine too. 


Dad’s going for a shower, time to wake Mummy up! MUUUUUMMY!!! I haven’t told her I’ve done a massive poo yet, I’ll let her figure it out for herself when I jump on her head. She’s just asked me if I’ve done a poo. Time to run away shouting No! She doesn’t realise I have so many more important things to be doing instead of having my nappy changed. I should be leaving my toy cars around, throwing them down the stairs and generally making a mess instead of this! Time to wrestle her and get my shit everywhere. Then, she’ll think twice before going near my arse with the wet wipes instead. Mum always asks if I want to use to the potty, and I generally just growl in her face for good measure. 


I understand that Daddy has to go to work every day, but that doesn’t stop me getting quite menstrual about it. I’m not concerned about him going, I’m just very pissed off that I can’t point at his car all day! Why can’t he leave the car here?! Arsehole. 


The Go Jetters are on, and im buzzing. I’m not sure Mummy has realised they’re on so I’d better shout “GO GO!” at her precisely eleventy hundred times until she acknowledges it in a manner I please. She’s too busy speaking to my friend Edie on that magic phone of hers. I’m not quite sure which one is Edie; the baby or the mum, so I’ll just call them both that. Two birds, and all that jazz. I also like to speak to the Edies’ whilst mum wrestles me into a ridiculous outfit. She usually gives me biscuits around this time too, if I’m being particularly loud or noisy. But only the chocolate sort of biscuit, I’ll throw the others on the floor. 


I’m really good at helping mum with the washing. I don’t understand why she makes a cross sigh when I jump into all the different piles when she’s putting them away. She seems to talk about those Ducks Cakes quite a lot. What are those? Are they just for ducks, or can I have some too? I love cake. 


Time to tell mum I’m hungry again, when really I’m not. She needs to stop drinking tea and do as I say. I think I’ll ask her for a banana, then I’ll spit it out all over the floor and ask for something else. She definitley enjoys this game. 


I’m just so excited! I want to play with ALL OF THE THINGS! Im going to get them all out and show them to Mummy. She clearly loves reading me the same book over and over. Sometimes, she’ll ask me to read it to myself and that makes me quite cross. Does she not understand that I’m only 2 and I can’t fucking read? I like looking at the pictures, but only if she’s looking with me. 


After a lot of bartering on my end, Mum’s finally given in and given me a cake. I’m so happy that I can’t possibly stay in one position. I need to run around the whole living room whilst Mum manically follows me with that really noisy thing that eats my food off of the carpet. Mum seems to sigh a lot when I wipe my hands on the curtains. Then she talks about ducks cakes again. 


I’m really tired but obviously I don’t want to go to bed. I’ll sit up on the sofa watching waybuloo whilst whinging at mum, just so she’s knows I’m absolutely NOT TIRED. 


Shit, I’m in bed. Sometimes I like to yell at Mummy until I drop off, but actually I’m exhausted from my busy morning. I’ll yell at her later. 


I’m awake, and I’m not happy about it. I’m going to just sit here and moan until mummy gets me some mini cheddars or something. 


Is mum getting my reins?? Holy shit, we’re going out! Oh my god, I’m just so excited! I LOVE GOING OUT MORE THAN ANYTHING! I hope we get to jump in some puddles like Peppa does. Mum can be a bit of a bitch when we’re out though. She just doesn’t understand that I really want to get a good close look at all the cars and buses going by but she won’t let me near them. When she does this, my favourite trick is to dramatically sit on the floor and scream until she goes a funny red colour and picks me up. She seems to walk much faster with me over her shoulder. I turn happy then. 


Sometimes, my aunties come to visit me when they’ve finished being at this place called ‘work’. I’m not sure what work is, but I’d like to know what all the grown ups do there. 


I’m hungry, I’m tired and I’m just a little bit pissed off. Mum calls this the witching hour. I’m not sure what witches are, but I haven’t seen any. I don’t understand why I have to wait for my dinner. I want it NOW and she’s telling me to stay away from the cooker because it’s hot. She’s closed the door now and I’m proper pissed off. I’m going to throw things and scream at the top of my lungs until Mummy flies out of the kitchen and puts me on the naughty mat. I HATE the naughty mat. It makes me even more angry so I flail my arms around and bounce my head off of things so that mum knows I’m FURIOUS. She never seems to pay me any attention at this point, which is really strange. Fucking bitch. 


All that time on the naughty mat has given me quite the hunger pangs. I can’t wait for my dinner. It’s smelling great! Wait… what is this slop she’s serving me? Fish fingers? Chips? Beans?! What a cow, I wanted sausages!!!!!! That’s it, I’m going to protest like I’ve never protested before. 


I’m still Fucking sat here. I really like my dinner normally, but I don’t like mummy to get used to me eating. The sooner she realises that I want coco pops for dinner, the better. 

Wait! DADDY’S HOME! Oh my goodness, he’ll save me. He’s come to give me a kiss. Now’s my chance to fling my arms up so he’ll get me out. I’m over this shit for dinner. I know he’ll give me some of his. 


Dad’s just told me I’m about to have a bath! I love the bath. I love splashing daddy the most though. He thinks it’s brilliant. The whole thing! He loves chasing me around with the towel afterwards, but I like to just run away to get dry. I know bed time is coming up, so I’ll make Daddy play his guitar and act extra cute so they’ll let me stay up later. I’m just too good at this. 


For fucks sake. I’m here, in bed again. Why don’t they get that I’m just not tired? I’m so bloody cross with them that I’m going to stand and the end of my cot and shout out of the door until they come in. It pisses me off even more that they don’t speak to me when they come in and lie me back down. That’s it, to teach them a lesson, im setting my alarm for each hour in the night. 

Hope they’re ready for me tomorrow. 


10 signs you live with a two year old

1. Your house looks like a crack den (without the drugs) 

Daily life is like an obstacle course; look out for the megablocks scattered around like land mines, the bouncy balls are clogged up the tumble dryer outlet (again), and there’s more than one tiny vehicle on each stair. The carpet is covered in cake crumbs, and the coffee table is littered with (the wrong) juice cups because toddlers much prefer to drink from parent’s grown up glasses. And  no matter how much you clean and tidy, the tiny whirlwind will follow behind undoing all of your hard work. Sometimes it’s nice to sit on the couch with a cup of tea and let the hurricane do its worst until bed time. 
2. You start apologising a lot 

“Ah, he must be hungry” or “he didn’t sleep much today” or “he’s teething” flies out of your mouth like word vomit as an excuse for why your two year old is frankly, just being a bit of a knob and showing you up in front of company. It’s too embarrassing to admit that he’s having a full blown on the floor tantrum because he just feels like it. 

3. You carry snacks EVERYWHERE 

Even if it’s just for a short walk around the block. I Fucking hate the sight of our iggle piggle snack container, but God knows that this small piece of plastic has saved me from many a public tantrum because it’s filled with chocolate buttons or (chocolate) raisins. 

4. There will be an unused potty somewhere in your house 

Mum and Dad are the only ones to ever use the toilet in this house, but you’re such a good parent that you won’t lock that bad boy away because that’s admitting defeat. If it’s there, maybe one day he’ll rip his nappy off and curl one out in there. I’m hopeful… 

5. Play dates begin to suuuuuck

It’s not like the good old days where they weren’t mobile. You can just sit them on a play mat with some rusks and toys anymore. Nope. Now, trips to the park make you bring out your inner drill Sargent. “YOU’RE TOO SMALL TO CLIMB UP THERE!” “WE GO DOWN THE SLIDE, NOT UP!” “DONT EAT THAT, ITS NOT YOURS!” … sigh. 

6. You start looking longingly at smaller babies 

Yup, there’s no denying the fact that your now two year old is no longer a baby (apart from the nappies he wears because he cannot be fucked to shit on the potty yet). But that doesn’t stop you from looking back at newborn photos with watery eyes and ovaries that start screaming for another one. 

7. You haven’t watched an adult programme during the day for a long time 

CBeebies is permanently on a loop in this house. Anything else causes a full scale riot that I’m usually not ready for because my two year old likes to wear me down at night so I have no fight left in me. To be fair, I don’t feel like I’m missing much because I’m usually cleaning (on my phone) or doing art projects with my toddler (he’s watching Mister Maker… that counts, right?). 

8. You can hold two conversations at once with ease 

You’re on the phone mid-sentence when a toy car is shoved in your face. “Yeah, im just sat waiting for the washing to – yes darling, that’s a lovely car! – for the washing to dry, then we’ll go for a walk- don’t climb on there darling!” people who own small children will know how easy it is. People who don’t own children, will come to learn when theirs is trying to somersault off of the sofa. 

9. You’ve got a tonne of wet wipes stocked up 

As I’ve mentioned before, wet wipes are amazing. They aren’t just for a shitty arse, no sir. They are good for everything! And you need more of them when you have a toddler. Sticky hands and faces, wiping down the high chair/table, wiping that bit of chocolate dribble out of the carpet, taking your makeup off… the list is endless! 

10. You smile every day

Even when your two year old really has been terrible, you can’t help but smile when he sings old macdonald or runs up to you when you enter a room with a beaming smile and a “MUUUUUMY!”. I love for those moments, and I’m a sucker for a big cuddle whilst watching in the night garden (even if it gives me nightmares) 

With great sickness comes a great sick bowl

It’s been a long and stressful week. Poor N has a nasty bout of rotavirus. He’s a very poorly little man, and is boffing and crapping for England. He’s been like this since Wednesday. Here are the main essentials for when the toddler falls ill. 

1. Dioralyte – this stuff is liquid gold. I made the mistake of trying to force N to drink anything. Now, we syringe 5mls every 5 minutes (masked with the flavour of orange squash) and he’s taking it much better. 

2. Vanish stain removal – There’s no way to keep a two year old glued to one spot, so you might find that your nice beige carpet is now stained a funny colour and is also omitting a very odd smell… shit mixed with sick, for example. This stuff works wonders. 

3. A great sick bowl – We went for the leftover celebrations/quality street tubs from Christmas. Again, as above, you can’t keep a toddler glued to one spot so it’s usually fun to just follow them around with it under their nose just in case… and then the one second you want to scratch your nose, they miss the bowl completely and then paff on the floor. Here’s where you’ll need number 2. 

4. Some decent nappies – Tesco nappies have now failed me more than once with trying to contain a literal shit storm, so we have gone back to ALDI. They will forever be my favourite nappies, and they’re buckets cheaper too. 

5. A strong stomach – Ain’t nobody going to feel sorry for you if you throw your guts up whilst sorting out a vomit covered child at 2am, so get the fuck on with it and push those lumps down the plug hole. Becoming a parent has allowed me to realise that I do actually have a stomach of steel. (If only I had the bladder of steel to go with it…) 

6. A washing machine – Pretty obvious, but that washing machine has to have the brute force behind it to do eleventy hundred loads of 90 degree cycles. I’m proud of my old girl, she’s probably the same age as me, (which is old in washing machine years) and has done me proud. 

7. Good friends – that will come and make you a cup of tea (or ten) if you call them sobbing. If you’re really lucky, they’ll do your house work for you too. 

8. Patience – Not many people can master having a piss and wiping with a toddler glued to your chest, but if it were an Olympic event, then I would for sure bring home the gold medal for GB. I’ve also been puked on more times than I can remember (twice in public), and have had little sleep.