A Toddler’s Guide to Valentine’s Day


I’ve thought of some brilliant ways to show your mummy how much you love her, that are waaay better that silly old hearts and flowers. Here’s your guide to an extra-special Valentine’s Day – you’re welcome!

1. Wake up super early – I’m thinking maybe 5/5.30am. Especially great this year as the big day is a Sunday. Your mummy will totally love being given the gift of extra time with you on the day of love.

2. Breakfast in bed – apparently this is really romantic, I’m not really sure why. I’m thinking biscuits or toast would be ideal, to really get the crumbs between the sheets.

3. Show your emotions – ladies love a man who shows their sensitive side, so factor in at least three meltdowns during the day.

4. Bring her gifts – be creative. Last week I actually grabbed the contents of my nappy and proudly presented it to mummy. She was so happy she screamed.

5. Let her watch her favourite film – as long as it’s Peppa Pig. On repeat.

6. Be spontaneous – ladies love the unexpected. The best time for spontaneity is just as she’s putting you to bed. Request a drink, one more song, keep yelling out “Mr Tuuumble” or tell her there’s a cat in your bedroom (doesn’t matter if you don’t own one) – these spontaneous gestures will go a long way.

Happy Valentine’s Day!


A Toddler’s Guide to Flying with Parents

Plane blogWe recently took mummy and daddy on holiday to Majorca – it was our first family holiday abroad and I’m pleased to report that they behaved really well and we all had the best time.

For any toddlers out there considering an overseas trip with grown-ups, here is my fail-safe guide to flying with parents:

1. Pack a goody bag – It’s unfair to expect your parents to sit still for the whole flight, so be prepared with a bag full of goodies to distract them. Failing that, try chewing and then spitting out your yogurt raisins – they love trying to catch them before they stain the plane seat.

2. Keep hydrated – with all that cabin pressure and altitude, it’s important to remind your parents to keep hydrated. A really effective method is to try to drink from a water bottle that’s too big to hold properly, dribble some out, hand it back, ask for it again and repeat. They’ll soon snatch it from you and take a swig themselves.

3. Don’t bother with an in-flight meal – unless you really need to. We ordered one for mummy and daddy, but they kept getting in the way when we tried to eat ours. I had to refuse my meal, then cry because I had refused it, spill some orange juice, throw beans down my t-shirt and refuse to eat anything other than a block of cheese before they’d back off and let me dine in peace.

4. Encourage them to use the toilet – if you’re on a long-haul flight this is particularly important – everyone knows it’s not good to hold it in. A great way to do this is to do a number-two, about 20 minutes into the flight. They will whip you into that ridiculously small cubicle quicker than you can say “pass me a wet-wipe”.

5. Let them roam – anyone knows that to avoid Deep Vein Thrombosis on a flight, you should keep moving. Make sure your parents get out of their seats but squirming out of yours. If they try to restrain you, cry. If this doesn’t work, employ the fool-proof tactic, floppy-limb-syndrome. You know the one I mean – go limp when they try to pick up up…works a treat. You’ll soon be roaming the aisle with them in hot pursuit.

6. Don’t worry what other people think – easier said than done, but you can’t expect your parents to be quietly contained for the whole flight. Let them know it’s ok to kick back and enjoy yourself, make noise, poke the head of the man in front of you and cry when you have to keep your seatbelt fastened. Ignore those looks from other passengers…they’re probably only jealous of the noisy fun you’re having.

* Image courtesy of care2.com

Friday Frolics

Nappies? Not for me!

Nappies blogIt’s been so hot this week that a toddler could be forgiven for throwing their toys out of the proverbial pram. In my case, I’ve taken this one step further and decided that I shall rip my nappy off at any given opportunity. I need to be free – why does nobody understand this?!

It all started last weekend – my big brother was strolling around naked (apparently 4-year-olds are averse to clothes) and I wanted some of the action for myself. I seized my chance while mummy was in the kitchen, and somehow wriggled free of my shorts by myself. Win! Ok, now to escape this t-shirt. That didn’t go quite so well (it’s hard to coordinate arms-getting-out-of-holes) so I had to yell at my brother until he pulled me free of the damn thing…and then I was only one nappy away from naked freedom…

I’ve been watching mummy fasten my nappies for months now, so I knew that I had to tug those velcro bits off…but that takes time and coordination, so I opted for the fail-safe method of pull-it-til-it comes-off – BINGO!

I was super proud of myself. Mummy didn’t seem to share my sense of joy and tried to put the mangled nappy back on – no way lady! I’m free and there’s no going back!

I thought I would impress her with some new skills, so I said “wee-wee” and took her to the toilet. She helped me stand on the little stool and I waited. And waited. And waited a bit longer. But nothing came. How embarrassing. There must be a secret button or something that daddy and my big brother press, because I’ve seen them do it and they definitely don’t wait this long. Note to self: find the secret button that makes you wee.

I styled it out, skipped the actual wee part and moved onto flushing and hand-washing. I’ve got that one down to a T. Mummy seemed quite proud that I could wash my hands by myself, so I let her coo over me, diverting her attention from the embarrassing-non-wee-situation. Stupid hidden button.

So one week later and I’m still taking my nappy off whenever the opportunity arises. I still haven’t found the secret button that makes you wee in the toilet, but I have discovered that if you stand naked on the carpet (or on the sofa), your wee just comes out all over the floor – who knew?! I thought that was pretty cool but mummy didn’t seem to agree and I’ve overheard her mumbling the words ‘potty’ and ‘not ready for this’ when she talks to daddy.

Not quite sure what she means, so I’ll report back once I find out what this mysterious ‘potty’ thing is that she keeps referring to. I just hope it comes with a built-in wee button.

A Day in the Life of a Rock Star

ROckstarI don’t mean to blow my own trumpet, but I have a pretty hectic social life for an 18-month-old. On Monday and Tuesday, me and my big brother look after Nanny & Grandad {they can be a bit of a handful, but between the pair of us we can usually handle them} and on Wednesday and Thursdays, I make a guest appearance at my childminder’s {I’m the only boy there and totally have the ladies in the palm of my hand}. But Fridays are my favourite day because mummy doesn’t go to work and I get to hang out with her and my big brother all day.

Today started out in the usual rock-star fashion, with me feeding myself Weetabix for breakfast. Yup, you read that right – I totally feed myself. I particularly like this bib because I think it really complements my eyes and I love the way it detracts from the mess around my face.

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Pink Rage

You know what it’s like after a hard day playing at the childminders – sometimes you get home and you just want to kick back and relax with 5ml of Calpol. Hardly an unreasonable request, right? Especially as I have three teeth coming through at the same time. AT THE SAME TIME.

Mummy had already attacked them with Ambersol, which I usually don’t mind, but the three evil teeth were particularly evil this evening and medicine was required. Mummy agreed and I eagerly welcomed the syringe full of the beautiful pink stuff. Take that, pesky teeth.

But you know what she did next? She only went and put the medicine away! Cruel wench! She tried to explain to me that apparently I can’t have too much as it will hurt my tummy, but as far as I was concerned, if I couldn’t play with that beautiful glass bottle {and maybe throw a little on the floor} then it was game over.

Number one rule of toddlerdom – when faced with something you don’t like, just throw yourself on the floor in a dramatic fashion. I’ve seen my older brother do it and I’ve secretly been practicing for moments like this. I buried my head in my arms, too, you know, for a little added drama…a move which I am particularly proud of. I had to keep peeking up every now and then, just to make sure mummy was watching {which she was} and then I whipped my head back down again, to resume this fabulous tantrum pose, which I hereby name weeping badger.

Weeping Badger - watch and learn...

Weeping Badger – watch and learn…


Annoyingly mummy stood her ground and wouldn’t give the bottle back. Stubborn as a mule, that woman. And to add insult to injury, she tried to cuddle me. And I was like, “Er, hello? Trying to have an epic meltdown here…” Honestly!

With weeping badger clearly not having the desired effect, I thought I would open and bang shut the kitchen cupboard door, just to make my point…but I watched on in horror as my furious effort to slam it closed resulted in a slow, smooth sweeping action, thereby totally undermining my depth of fury – damn you stupid self-closing cupboard hinges.

She eventually won me over with bottle of milk {which I’m sure she laces with vitamins, but am yet to prove this} and we headed up to bed. As I was getting changed into my pyjamas, I made sure I had a strategic wee, perfectly executed between my old nappy coming off and the clean one going on – a final silent protest.

As soon as I was snuggled up with her, bunny in one hand and muzzy in the other, my pink rage melted away and all was forgiven. I’d rather have mummy over Calpol any day…just don’t tell her I said that.