Since turning two, WallyBubba has been going through what can only be described as a period of ‘change’.
She has slowly been developing a rather serious, and potentially harmful (to others), coming-of-age condition known as ‘Toddler-Bastard-Hood‘ or TBH to us in the know… *shudders*
This condition is no joke.
NO laughing matter.
(Well, occasionally… when you start laughing those slightly hysterical laugh-tears whilst rocking a bit and trying to go to your happy place…)
It effects over 90% of toddlers and is known to change even the sweetest, kindest and politest of one year olds into total ‘shits’. (technical term)
It’s not all bad news; if caught early, the symptoms may be reduced using copious amounts of gin and moderate wailing/chocolate consumption. But it’s important that parents have all the information possible in order to recognise the beginnings of this horrific disease.
Please refer to the tick list below so that together we can work together to eradicate TBH and unite in a Hendricks/Toblerone haze…
- Your child spends at least one day a week refusing to eat anything other than cheese. Angrily. With a spork.
- Baths. Remember those…? Well. They don’t occur without you bleeding anymore…
- Your child asks to go to the playground. Upon arrival, your child insists this is a huge misunderstanding, and that they in fact HATE the playground. They then beat you in the face with one of the toddler swings in order to ridicule you in front of some tutting old people and some smug mummies who are wearing actual lipgloss. (This is how you know you are not one of them…)
- No matter how many times you say their name, they ignore you… until you break… Once you’re weak, then they spit on you and help themselves to a packet of fruit wriggles from the change bag while you cry…
- Any attempt to calm them following a tantrum results in someone*, somewhere losing an eye and/or their sanity. *you
- The lack of afternoon nap means you hit a 3-o-clock slump which I now refer to as the ‘twatty-toddler-hour’, where literally NOTHING can appease them. They stamp on rabbits, hurl raisins at moving vehicles, and eat entire wax crayons without chewing. Then promptly take a shit in the middle of the floor and blame you for it. Obviously.
- There will be no nappies or socks after midday. And if you think they are ever wearing a hat ever again then you clearly don’t value your skin.
- When things get really bad, we (me, the Ninky-Nonk, Lola, the scuttlebug and a pair of Daddy’s shoes….) are subjected to an angry tea party. Where each of the participants is forced to eat wooden cake and drink tea until WallyBubba BASTARD WELL DECIDES YOU’RE FINISHED. It’s fairly traumatising once you enter the third hour… *sobs a bit*
- Never, ever, EVER put Charlie and Lola on without first asking if there was a preference. You. IDIOT. Now you have to watch Peppa F*@king Pig back-to-back for a month.
- They keep asking to do crafts. But become totally inconsolable when they realise their annoying chubby little toddler hands can’t hold the paintbrushes properly… They also lie about NOT eating paint. Whilst eating paint. Wankers.
- When they stare at you… you now know it’s because they are collecting pieces of your soul for Mordor… and this scares you… a lot. You’re very thankful for all the gin now…