We all knew this day would come…
But you hang on and hope that you’ll be one of the lucky ones…
One of the few whose toddler decides napping is for them. And carries on doing it. FOREVER. Or something.
But this is not us.
We are the majority.
We’re just like the rest of you.
We are fucked.
Because no longer can I use the hour, sometimes two whole hours, that WallyBubba used to give me whilst she napped to remove the pieces of breakfast from my face, rotate my leggings, enjoy a solo loo-visit or even hoover… (ok not hoover, but be in the same room as the hoover drinking gin which is nearly the same…)
No. Those joyful moments are OVER.
From now on, every afternoon I shall remain dappled in Weetabix, in crispy leggings, and have to actually entertain my over-active, felt-tip eating, cat-punching pre-schooler all by myself… Fuck.
I’m not even ashamed to admit that I am fairly concerned at this prospect… *runs away and hides from disapproving glances* In fact, I’m terrified that I may have to finally enter into the world of… toddler arts and crafts. *flinches and throws up about in own mouth*
I’m just don’t think I’m ready… I’m not sure me and my living room, or my poor tormented cats, will survive… the mere mention of the letters ‘P.V.A’ gives me cold sweats… and I’d just to remind everyone involved that they have vowed to never again speak of what happened the day we let WallyBubba hold the glitter-glue-gun… Or ‘Glitter Gate’ as it’s now known… Let’s just say Yes. Poos can be sparkly too…
So feel for me fellow toddler-keepers, I’m now joining you on the darker side of parenting. There’ll be gin, there’ll be tears, but there will be no sleeping toddler… and I will literally lay down and die before we ever attempt messy play again.
|WallyBubba. Caught in the act… of NOT sleeping.|