Tag Archives: toddlers

I glanced at you this morning…

It was just a quick glance as you were counting down days to your 8th birthday and I was concentrating on making sure you had all you needed for school. Our usual everyday school run routine.

In that minute though, that split second I glanced at you and there were no hints of baby any longer, no remnants of toddlerhood. You were all little girl. A beautiful, chatty, funny little girl who is almost 8.

It shocked me. I know how daft that sounds. I know you’re nearly 8. After all I’ve been around for the bits between birth and now, joining the adventure that is your life. When I looked at you this morning though it felt as if birth to 8 had whizzed by all in that exact second.

Your stunningly beautiful little face has none of the chubby cheeked squishiness that the toddler you had. There’s not a flash of the gummy toothless smile that used to greet me every morning as I went to lift you out of your cot.

Whilst you’re chatting away to me about birthdays and school and Romans and penguins in the chirpy enthusiastic way you have I struggle to equate it with the preschooler I worried so badly would never talk. I know! How nuts is that? My Little Miss Chatterbox wouldn’t talk. I panicked and stressed and worried for so long, half believing you’d be forever silent. As it turned out you were just holding on until you had something articulate to say. I know MANY grown ups who could learn from that!

Those strong legs of yours that are never still that never walk when a hop, skip or leap will do. We laugh, don’t we? About how we know when you’re feeling poorly as it’s the only time you actually walk from A to B rather than skip or dance. So very different from those gorgeously wobbly baby thighs I just wanted to gobble up. The legs that would kick and wiggle as I attempted to dress you or change your nappy. Those sturdy little legs I kept standing you up on every time you wobbled as you were learning to walk. They’re gone. Replaced by your athletic gymnasts legs.

When I stop and think like this, I can recall the moments between the tiny baby who was placed on my chest as she was born and this amazing little girl I hold hands with and school run everyday. When I stop and take a breath there are a whole catalogue of such very special moments we’ve shared. I feel as though I could bring to mind every day, every occasion, every milestone.

Just for a second though this morning, when I glimpsed at the pretty chatty girl in front of me it felt as though 8 whole years had whizzed by in a heartbeat.

In another 8 years you’ll be turning 16. That’s a scary thought. Though I’m grateful for the reminder of how time really does fly. I’ll do all I can to ensure when I feel like time is rushing too fast to stop and remember the moments because it’s the moments that make up a lifetime isn’t it? I don’t want to forget a single one.


Toddlers?? Teenagers ?? Same old same old!!

Once upon a time I was mum to 3 children under 3, or to be accurate 3 under 2 and a half (and I’m still here to tell the tale!) It was the hardest work I have EVER done , in any capacity. How we as parents manage to keep things ticking over whilst that exhausted , in hindsight , is nothing short of a minor miracle (I’d like to take this opportunity to thank Cbeebies and rusks for the part they played)….usually soothing me whilst the madness was taking place.

When people would sit next to us on the bus (only happened if there were literally no other seats , people avoided the wild eyed woman with a double buggy and a baby strapped to her that looked as though she’d not seen a hairbrush in weeks) When some one did sit by us though this was the most popular conversation.

Stranger: Are they all yours??

Me: Think so ,  I’ve lost count! ( too tired for small talk)

Stranger: How old?

Me: 3 , 18 months and 6 months.

Stranger: Well if you think it’s hard work now , just wait until they’re teenagers!!

I used to wonder how true this could be. I mean teenagers slept all the time, didn’t they???

Now we’re at the three teenager household time.With a 19,17 and 16 year old I’m discovering that the  teenage years are remarkably similar to the toddler times.

The Mess

With toddlers you attempt to teach to put one toy away before getting something else out , repeatedly  day after day with limited success. Same applies with the teenagers. They can bring  a cup out of their room (applauds) but why put it next to the sink rather than in it…you’ve gotten almost there..you can do that last little bit surely….same goes for dirty washing and the wash basket.

They ask questions I cannot answer

Used to be things like ‘ How many spiders are in the world?’ or ‘How many bricks do you need to build a house?’. It’s progressed slightly ‘ If you pushed a swing in space , what would happen?’ These days we can refer to the second parent in our house – Google!! The toddler days were reliant on how imaginative mummy was feeling!

They refuse to acknowledge tiredness

I remember one time I was around a childless friend , youngest boy was having one of those over tired toddler meltdowns. My friend asked what on earth was wrong with him. I replied that he was tired. “Why doesn’t he just go to sleep then?” asked my friend!

Good question!

If the boys don’t have enough sleep now  they will be grumpy and irritable all day. Should I suggest an early night though they will insist they are absolutely fine then continue to yawn and grouch till I inevitably end up sending them to bed.

They are obsessive

When they were little they loved Bob the Builder…so every time they sneakily introduced a new machine ( I have not forgiven you Snowed Under)the boys would stroke it as they went passed it in the toy shop , their eyes turning love heart shaped in adoration for a new vehicle, the one that would complete their collection. Until the next one came out of course (Sunflower Valley you did a right number on us).The focus of their love has changed and it’s now all Hull City or Doctor Who or that stupid bloody Football Manager game  when they love , they love hard!!!

They’re accidentally offensive

The cringey no filter of the toddler mouth was always dangerous in public

“Mummy that lady smells”

“Mummy that man is picking his nose”

“Why is that man so fat mummy?”

Thankfully we have learned to think before we speak though we still suffer the occasional slip up , invariably at my expense. “Mum I think that skirt isn’t your size , it’s too short”

I’m enjoying this stage in parenting though, as much as I occasionally crave the little , sleepy , milk-drunk faces (womb ache alert!!!) They are becoming quite good company!

AND everyone can wipe their own bottoms now!!! Result!!

The Mum Conundrum