A note to my toddlers

Dear girls,

It is with regret that the tone of this letter is so formal, however, unfortunately it has been brought to my attention that there have been a number of ‘incidents’ this week, that need to be addressed.

Firstly, I realise this afternoon my attention may have lapsed somewhat between the hours of 2 and 3, but it seems unfair that you should both take advantage of this and take the opportunity to sneak Pinner (pudding before dinner) in the kitchen whilst I made that phone call. (daughter 1 – you will henceforth be referred to as 1, daughter 2, you are 2). 1 – yes, you were the ring leader, you made the mistake of accessing Pinner I know 2 can’t yet reach. Hiding the Pinner behind your back and blaming 2 when you realised you were cornered was particularly bad form. Always stay loyal to your accomplice. 2: hats off to you; when asked ‘Did you take the pudding?’ your hearty ‘Yep!’ was all shades of cheeky, but you took that time-out like a pro. However, the fact that you served your time singing BAA BAA BASHEEP HOW WOW WOOOOL at the top of your voice with great glee, did little to convince me of your repentance.

1, your first 3 days of the week were utterly exemplary. you were the shining example of toddler role models. Your smug disapproval of 2 taking the opportunity to perfect the word ‘No’ was convincing. Your decision to eat your broccoli in front of the visitors was inspired. I felt, by the end of the week that I had been lulled into a false sense of security…wait.

I realise this has been a pivotal time for you 2, what with learning to climb out of your cot and dropping your only remaining nap all in the same week; I like to think the number of ‘drop and rolls’ you have done on the way to your car seat, cot, nappy change, the supermarket checkout, or even the tea table, reflect your insecurity at all the exciting changes that are happening in your little universe, and not that you are being a disobedient, pint sized dictator, reacting to any kind of instruction with complete and utter tyranny; that would be just dreadful.

But girls, 1 and 2, what really pushed me to write this, was the piece de resistance this evening, was the welcome home you gave your father. All week I have tried to convince him I’ve been doing a good job. Every evening, I have regaled him with our successes in Play-Doh, witticisms from your dear mouths to convince him that yes, Mummy staying at home to care for you is a great idea. Imagine his surprise upon asking where his beloved daughters were, on his return from work, that Mummy wasn’t entirely sure. ‘Ummm, they were in their bedroom a minute ago?’ didn’t really inspire him to think I had a handle on the situation. Imagine my surprise on discovering that you were in fact, both next door, hiding inside our wardrobe.

2, head to toe covered in paint, it was abundantly clear that you were enjoying the 60 minute makeover that you and your sister were inflicting on our furniture, also, being the one not holding the tester pot of emulsion, I could quickly gather that the idea was not initially yours.

1, hiding the pot behind your back just like the earlier Pinner incident cemented the fact that you again, were ring-leading. Hats off to you, pasting your sister in paint did make her look like more of the guilty party, but your 2 year old right-handed sister would have had a tricky time drawing faces all up her right arm. Determined she is, artistically gifted and dextrous – she is not.

Daddy was not keen to see the drawings on the inside of the wardrobe, I realise that may have come as a shock to you. More so that he wasn’t especially impressed with the paint footprints on the carpet or the handprints on the sofa bed. It’s lucky for you that your brother chose that moment to laugh hysterically about the whole debacle long enough to distract your father, allowing 1 to well up those beautiful Disney eyes and get the bottom lip trembling. Again, 2, I’m not sure it was the right time to treat us to an encore of BAA BAA BASHEEP HOW WOW WOOOOL but I note your enthusiasm for the arts in all forms and hope this is a positive indication that you will one day see this incident as your creative birth and inspiration for all your paint/song performance art hereafter.

Thus, girls it is with deep regret that I confirm, despite this rocky start to life at home with Mum, you are I’m afraid, stuck with me. If this was some bizarre initiation ceremony, I await the arrival of my appropriately branded hoody. If it wasn’t, step up your game girls, I’m in it for the duration.

With love, more stubbornness than you can even imagine and a pot of white spirit paint remover,

Your mum x



  1. It’s always something BAD when they get quiet! Good luck to you on your decision to be home with your littles – it’s going just about how it’s supposed to so far, and can only get better, right?


    • Thanks Barb, I do feel like a great weight has been lifted off my shoulders. This is only the start, but hopefully it will lead to new avenues! Until then, paint removal will have to suffice.


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