Toddler tip of the day

This Halloween, I am not in costume, I have no fake blood streaked over my face and no make-up, but I assure you, my appearance is quite terrifying.
I sit here with my hair on end, deep black circles under my eyes, and an expression on my face that could cause The Hulk himself to cower in fear.
For this Halloween, I am myself ...

... Sleep-deprived-mother-of-teething-toddler.

The last couple of days, my beautiful, charming, funny little girl has been replaced (possessed, if you will) with a little monster that screams, hits, moans, whines and does not take NO for an answer.
I. am. exhausted.

Mya has quickly learned to say and ask for Calpol, or, as she calls it, Polpol!
I, as many mothers will agree, am in awe of the magical powers of that sticky pink goo.
But there comes a point in the day when the magic wears off.

This is when I bust out the frozen peas.

Oh yes! You heard right. Frozen peas.

One time while quickly trying to make an angry, teething toddler her dinner, I accidentally dropped some frozen peas out of the bag. Before I could pick them all up, her speedy little baby hands had grabbed a few and deposited them into her mouth.
I waited for her little tongue to poke out and her face to crease in revulsion.
But there was nothing.
Silence.
No screaming. No whinging. No moaning.
Had I gone deaf?
She swallowed.
Then as she began to screw up her face, pre-whinge, I offered her another pea.
Again, silence.

Awesome!!
The cold soothes her gums and they defrost quickly in her mouth making them easy to swallow. They even class as one of her 5 a day! Talk about killing two birds ...

So now whenever I am in between Calpol dosages and distraction, cuddles and love are futile, out come the frozen peas.

Little pot of peas = Little moment of peace

Vlog - My first steps

Hey guys!

So the other day me and my mum were watching old video clips of me when I was a wee babba. That woman really took a LOT of videos! But anyway, I was watching the clips of when I was learning to walk, it was hilarious! I looked like Bambi after one too many glasses of vino!
So I put them all together into my first vlog for you all to enjoy!
Here it is,
My first steps!

See more awesome videos at That's the baby game - YouTube



Why I blog

I have been thinking about this for a while now.
This blog started out of the blue in a lot of ways. I just sat down one day and decided to write.
But when I really think about it, I have wanted to blog for ages and just never plucked up the courage to do it. It is such a personal thing and by sharing your blog you are sharing not just your life but your thoughts and emotions.

I suppose my desire to write stems back to my early teens.
When I was thirteen, my mum, my brother and I moved in with my stepfather and his three children. It was a huge change and we all found it difficult adjusting. Initially all five of us 'kids' were put into one bedroom, my brother and I sleeping on camp beds. As you can imagine, five children in one room was a situation any sane individual would ordinarily avoid, but unfortunately that was the result of two families merging into one in a two bed house!
I found my relationship with Hannah, only one year younger than me, the hardest. I can understand, her home and her personal space had been invaded by another family. Another family she had neither asked for or wanted in her life, let alone her bedroom! So we fought, a lot.
I began writing a diary. I found solace in venting my anger and frustration.
Hannah also wrote a diary.
I soon discovered that Hannah had secretly been reading my diary. Angered and hurt at my privacy being violated, I started to read hers too.
My next diary entry began 'Dear Hannah'.
For a long time without speaking a word of it to each other we continued to 'secretly' read our letters to each other. It allowed us to express our emotions and work through our differences without having to argue face to face. So we continued to do that. After a while, the letters became less angry and we would find ourselves laughing at each others jokes and comments. Eventually the diaries became something we shared. We no longer 'hid' them and as funny as it sounds would actually ask 'Have you read my diary today?'
Today me and Hannah are very close and although we are no longer 'forced' to live together, we live close by and regularly see each other. Hannah if you are reading this blog ... I love you man!

I think I also started my blog because I enjoy reading other peoples. I discovered the world of blogging when I was pregnant. I loved being a part of other peoples experiences and felt relieved when other people would be writing about the same concerns that I had. I thought what a lovely idea. It is not only a fantastic way of venting your emotions but it also helps others know that they're not alone.

After I had Mya, I became quite detached from civilisation. I didn't have a lot of adult contact and found my vocabulary diminishing quite dramatically. I wouldn't talk much to Mya and if I did it would be baby talk. I was regressing! My language became so bad I am pretty sure there were Neanderthals with better eloquence.
I decided something must be done! So I started this blog. Since then I have found that I have not only got a piece of 'me' back, which I lost after becoming a mum, but I talk to Mya more. Mya's speech has sky rocketed in the last month or so that I have been writing and I am almost certain this blog has something to do with it!

Aside from all of that, I find the thing I love most about blogging is keeping a record of everything Mya does that I am sure I would forget if I didn't write it down. Childhood is such a precious and fleeting time. With a blink of your eye your tiny newborn has transformed into a bouncing toddler. A blog allows memories that would normally be scattered in the past be captured and treasured.
I also like to think that if something were to happen to me (god forbid), Mya would be able to read this record of our time together as mother and daughter and know that she was loved unconditionally.

So I write.
For me and for my gorgeous, crazy daughter.
This is our story.

My memory box - By Mya

Hi everybody!

Today, I thought I would share with you my awesome memory box that my mum has put together for me. Obviously it's not finished yet because I'm not done making memories! But here are some of the things in there so far ...

So this is the box. It's pretty dusty and battered. My mum said its was Great Grandparents' so it must be really really old!

Oh look there's all my things!!  >>>

<< Okay so let's start from the beginning! When I saw this I was like 'Gross, I'm not touching that!' Cos my mum totally peed on it! But it's pretty cool, cos that was the actual test my mum took when she found out that I was like this big --> O <-- in her tummy!

>> Hey look! So when my mum had me in her tummy, she went to the doctors and they put this squishy wet stuff on her tummy and poked it with a camera that sees through skin! Cool right! Here's the pictures it made.

My mum said I look just like I did in the scan picture.

I think shes a bit mad.

<< When I came out of my mum's tum, they put a bracelet on me and my mum to make sure that we were who we said we were. But it was wicked cos they personalised them so we were matching! We were like bracelet buddies!

>> Seriously how cute are these!? Those are my very first little outfits!

<< These are all the cards we got to celebrate the the coolest baby being born ... that's me by the way!

>> This is part of the feeding chart my mum kept for the first few days of my life.

I was an awful feeder. They later figured out that I have a dairy intolerance and had pretty bad reflux which meant I never took a full feed in one go. So at one point I would drink only a couple of ounces every half hour!

How my mum didn't throw me out of the window I will never know!

Mum if you are reading this, I salute you! 

Respect.

<< These are my hand prints that my mum took when I was only 10 weeks old. She liked them so much she even got a tattoo of one of them!

>> That's mums tattoo! It's back to front but the writing underneath says Mya Rose.

<< Before I met my best mate Monkey, my closest friend was Sheepy. This is he.

He went everywhere with me so as you can see he is pretty battered and dirty despite going for a swim in the washing machine countless times!

I caught my mum trying to throw him away once! (Shame on you mother!)

But I managed to rescue him and decided to keep him safe in my memory box.

>> For my first Christmas mum dressed me up in this super cool red hat and took photos. I think she said it was Santa's hat. I don't know who Santa is but he's got some style!

Anyway she sent off the photos to the *Pigmoon and this awesome card came back!

* I have just been informed that it is actually called Moonpig and it is a website that makes cards using your own photos! Cool eh?

http://www.moonpig.com/

 

<< This was the candle on my first birthday cake! My first birthday was amazing! I had an awesome party where my whole family came and watched me running around dressed as a fairy!

>> This is me at my birthday party. Check out those wings!

<< These some of the cards I got for my birthday!

So those are a few bits in my memory box! I hope that my mum will keep saving little pieces of my past to put in there because it's pretty fab looking back on it all!

Anyhoo that's all for now,

Speak soon,

Mya moo xxx





Hopes and Dreams

So every week Britmums post a blogging prompt to inspire us! This week they have prompted us to think about our hopes and dreams, for ourselves, our family and our children.

Now, anyone who knows me will know that I am not only the hugest pessimist in the history of Negativityshire but I also frequently visit Failure City, Cynic-ville and Given-up-trying-town.

But this wasn't always the case.
Growing up I had wild ambitions and lots of them!
These included the more common ambitions ... Actress, Artist, Teacher, Fashion Designer
And the more outrageous! ... Olympic runner, Professional Footballer, Lion Tamer!

I have always had an over active imagination and growing up I loved to imagine my future and would see myself in all of these glamorous and exciting jobs. I had a giant box filled to the brim of prospectus's for universities, acting schools, volunteer projects across the world and application forms for every 'crazy' idea I had ever had.

Soon it came to the end of school and while I saw all of my friends and peers applying for very specific, well thought out careers, I sat there stroking my chin wondering what on earth I was going to do.
How was I supposed to choose?
I changed my mind what I wanted to do with my life every day!

So I played it safe and did what I knew I enjoyed. Art.

After the one year Foundation course I was still totally confused. So I threw myself into the big scary world of employment.

Five years later and my CV looks more like a large chunk of the yellow pages.
My indecisiveness is clear to see when skimming through my employment history.
I have worked in everything from waitressing, childcare and administration to health care, retail and customer services.
But none of them made me happy and I quickly changed from Natasha-full-of-ambitions to Natasha-the-pessimist.

Then I had Mya. I became a stay at home mum and have loved and cherished every moment.
Finances are tight and my fiance works like a mad man, coming home from work late most nights. But we both love our jobs. And although Mya may go without designer clothes, the latest high-tech buggy or frequent holidays, she never goes without love, laughter and happiness.

As well as being a mum to my little monkey I also run my own small business as an Artist. I sell fine art pencil portraits, hand drawn from photographs (You can see some examples here). I have always loved drawing and being able to work from home means it is the perfect thing for me right now.

When Mya asks me what she should do with her future I will say to her to do whatever makes her happy. Unless it involves sky diving, bombs, fire or strip clubs!

Silent Sunday

Post-natal Anxiety

I was at the park the other day with Mya and noticed two very different parents.
There was Parent A who happily sat nattering to her friends whilst their child fearlessly launched themselves off the top of a ten foot climbing frame, narrowly escaping permanent paralysis.
And Parent B who followed their child's every move like a shadow, fearing that if they let go of that child they would immediately be taken down by a rogue swing or perhaps Parent A's child falling from the sky!


This got me wondering.
Every parent I know has natural fears and anxieties about their child's health and well-being.
But what happens when these fears become irrational?
When does normal worry and concern turn into something more serious?

The instant Mya was born and gently placed in my arms, ANXIETY hit!

She was so small and fragile. Every time I looked at her, along with the overwhelming love I felt also came intense fears.

What if I drop her?

What if someone comes into my room and steals her?

What if she stops breathing when I am asleep?

I became so paranoid that for a while I could not lay her on the floor for fear of me tripping and standing on her.
I couldn't sleep without her next to me with my hand resting on her tummy to monitor her breathing.
I couldn't be near an open window without the image of her falling out of it plaguing my thoughts.
When bathing her I would have images of her laying under the water, grey and lifeless having drowned.
And walking with her in the buggy I would imagine myself accidentally letting go and the buggy rolling onto a busy road.

The anxiety became like an alien invasion, very quickly taking over my once rational mind.
When having an intrusive thought, it was like having a nightmare whilst being awake. My imagination would run riot and the vivid images would often bring me to tears.
I found myself hiding away and not leaving the house unless it was absolutely necessary. I would not allow anyone else to hold Mya and only ever left her with my fiance for less than an hour at a time.

I went to the doctors and voiced my concerns. The doctor quickly skimmed over my history of depression and prescribed me with anti-depressants.
But I knew I wasn't depressed.
In fact quite the opposite.
I was overjoyed and desperately in love with my new role as a mother.
So why was I feeling this way?
Was I going mad?

Then by pure chance while reading a parenting forum, I stumbled across the term Post-natal Anxiety.
Then it all made sense. I found comfort in reading stories of women who had been through exactly the same as me.

18 months on from the birth of Mya, I still suffer with Post-natal anxiety.
I still have to check she is still alive and breathing in her cot countless times every evening and I am still plagued with constant intrusive thoughts and images on a daily basis. I have my ups and downs but even on a bad day, I have learned how to cope.

Post natal Anxiety, I feel, is over-looked as a condition in its own right. It is far too often treated as Post-natal Depression and while I think medications can help with some of the symptoms of anxiety, it doesn't treat the root cause. I wish I had been offered a form of cognitive therapy instead of being left with a bunch of pills having to battle through alone.

I hope in the future there will be more help through the NHS for dealing with this condition. But in the meantime I would like to say to any one else suffering in silence with this horrible, debilitating condition,
You are not alone.

Toddler tip of the day - By Mya

This is my Monkey. I loves him

There is nothing quite like falling asleep cuddling your favourite soft toy and sucking on your dummy.

But there is nothing more totally awful than waking up in the night to find your dummy has vanished!

You search all around the cot, under your pillow, behind your freaky looking teddy (that your mum insists is cute) but it's gone!

So all that is left to do is scream! 

Your mum or dad come running in to find the dummy which after ten minutes of frantic searching they find wedged between the cot and the wall. But by the time dummy is found and returned to your mouth you are wide awake and pretty darn moody! Bad times.

Mum had this fab idea one day (I think I actually saw the lightbulb appear above her head!) to tie my dummy to my Monkey. As said by a very wise meerkat ... Simples!
Now when my dummy falls out of my mouth all I have to do is find my Monkey and I can go back to sleep no problemo!

This is me sleeping like a baby ... haha geddit?!

Good times!

(For health and safety purposes my mum always makes sure the cord is too short to wrap around my neck .. cos no-one likes to be strangled in their sleep now do they?)

Naked

Today I stood in front of the mirror ... brace yourselves ... Naked.

Now ordinarily this is something I would avoid at all costs -

1. Because who stands in front of the mirror naked? Who does that? Its just weird,

2. Because it opens up opportunities for a certain inquisitive toddler to poke and laugh, and

3. Because generally when I do, I see myself naked!







Age 12

I have never much liked my body and have had a bit of an issue with it for as long as I can remember.



At school, I was the short one. And when I say short, I mean midget.

I know what you are thinking. Short isn't necessarily bad, look at Kylie Minogue! But combined with a bad mullet haircut (courtesy of my non-hairdresser mum) and a rather chubby face I looked more like a guinea pig with dodgy hair.

Up until my late teens it was fair to say, I looked like a boy. I was straight-up, straight-down and I remember, every night, praying to the stars to be given some boobs!

Then one day, BOOM! Just like that, I woke up one morning (or so it seemed) with my very own set of knockers! I was thrilled. However, along with the puberty that gave me my much longed for cleavage, came frizzy hair and and puppy fat! Not so thrilled.



After school I seemed to yo-yo between a size 8 and a size 12. I didn't diet. I didn't exercise. Any weight gain or loss, I put down to how much pie I was eating. And sometimes ... there was a lot of pie!



Age 20 Size 12

After a relationship broke down when I was 21, my weight plummeted to just 7 stone 11 and I dropped to a size 6. I am not going to lie, I liked being thin but I wasn't eating enough and became ill.

Age 21 Size 6

When I met my fiance Chris, in the summer that year I decided to get healthy and put on some more weight. I found this weight gain quite difficult psychologically and when I fell pregnant at 22 I worried I would hate my larger image.







I loved it.

If I could be pregnant all the time I would. I have never felt so beautiful and happy with my body as I did when I was pregnant. I was immensely proud of my growing bump and would show it off at any given opportunity. Pregnancy gave me an excuse to eat and not care about gaining weight .. because let's face it, the baby made me do it!



Towards the end of pregnancy I began to worry about losing the weight after the birth.

I remember one of the first things did in the moments after giving birth was to poke my stomach and I cringed when my finger was swallowed by my giant, floppy, jelly belly.



In my first bath after having Mya I looked down and was shocked at the body I saw. It felt like I had not only had a baby but a full body transplant! I had been given the body of an 80 year old! I wobbled my wrinkly belly, prodded my swollen breasts and ran my fingers across what felt like a cattle grid of stretchmarks across my thighs. 

Mya checking out the menu for dinner

Three days later, as if it couldn't possibly get any worse, my milk came in. You are warned that your breasts get bigger when breastfeeding but, Jesus, this was just rediculous! I had exploded from a C cup to a Double E! I had woken up with what felt like two bowling balls strapped to my chest. It was a joke. People would come and visit us and say things like I knew you had a baby but no-one mentioned you had twins too!

Ha ha such comedians.



Considering I class getting up off the sofa to make a coffee exercise, I feel very lucky that I lost the baby weight so quickly. My belly was a lot flatter within a couple of months and I had dropped back down to my pre-pregnancy weight by the time she was 10 months old.

However, although the weight dropped off, I found myself left with two wrinkly, deflated balloons on my chest, bigger hips and a wobbly belly which Mya likes to use as a bouncy castle for her Lego men!

I now sit at a healthy 9 stone and wear a size 10. I'm not going to pretend that I wouldn't love to get back in my size 8 jeans but I would say that right now I am at peace with my body.

So, today, when I looked in the mirror naked, I didn't see a short schoolgirl, I didn't see a chubby adolescent and I didn't see a skinny size 6.

I saw a body marked with imperfections.
I saw a body that created a brand new little person. 

I saw a mum.

And you know what?

I kinda like it.

Swimming - By Mya

Hi guys!

So, mum took me swimming this morning.
Swimming rocks!
And I don't like to boast but I am pretty awesome at it!

I first went swimming when I was just over a year old. Mum didn't take me before then because of my reflux. She figured because of the acoustics in a swimming pool, if I started screaming there would be glass shattering consequences! She was probably right, I have one hell of a scream (Seriously, Mariah Carey couldn't hit those highs!)
When we went swimming for the first time I was pretty scared. I mean what the hell, it's like a giant bath tub! You could totally lose your rubber ducky in that thing! And plus, it was full of other babies and toddlers. I mean, I am all for socialising but mum had dressed me in this horrendously pink, frilly swimming costume. It was so embarrassing. Seriously, she may as well have put a bonnet on me as well. I looked like Little Bo Peep!
Thanks mum.
Anyway, as we were going down the ladder into the giant bath tub, I held it all together and was so brave. I didn't cry or anything! Despite putting on a brave face, I was bricking it! I held on to my mum so tight.
I could tell mum was nervous about me getting upset and screaming cos her eyes were all wide and her voice went all high and squeaky. She was freaking me out a bit. But as she relaxed a bit I eased into the water more and realised that, hey, this was actually pretty fun!
I splished and splashed and sploshed all over the place and laughed when some water went in mums eye. Haha, her mascara smeared all down her face! What sort of a plonker wears non-waterproof mascara in a swimming pool! What a moose!
Despite my initial reservations, I was pretty impressed with swimming and was looking forward to the next trip.

The next time we went, however, I had been up in the night with some serious teething pain (Calpol wasn't even helping!) so I just wasn't in the mood. I had tried whinging all morning to try and put mum off taking me but we went anyway.
In the changing rooms, mum seemed a lot more relaxed than the first time we went. She was happily chatting to the other mums and cooing over their babies. I was in a foul mood so decided to take her down a peg or two.
As she held me in my disgusting Bo Peep costume, talking to one of the mums, I realised this was it. Payback time! So...
I totally peed all down her! Haha, you should have seen her face! She tried to pretend nothing had happened while brushing her leg down.
Then just when she thought no one had noticed... I did it again!! Oh it was hilarious.
That'll teach her to ignore me!
Despite the pee, we still went swimming. Seeing as she still hadn't got the message that I wasn't in the mood I decided to test out those acoustics. I belted out a good ten minutes of screams until mum finally gave in and took me home.

I am surprised my mum took me back swimming again after that but I am so glad she did. We go most weeks now and I love it! As soon as we hit that water I rule that pool!

Here's a video of me swimming with my dad. Check me out!



So thats me swimming! Water baby extraordinaire!

Anyways must dash. Mum just found my artwork on the bedroom wall. Uh-oh. HIDE!!

Speak soon,

Mya moo xxx

Duck says Raaa

Mya has found her voice.

I haven't a clue how she managed to hide something so huge!
It is as though she has found the remote control for her voice and pressed Play.

It is amazing how it has gone from one moment, me worrying she wasn't making any effort to talk, to the next, trying desperately to understand the streams of sentences that make absolutely no sense!
She is sat there talking and talking while I am thumbing through the yellow pages trying to find a Cryptologist to hire so maybe I can decipher what she is trying to tell me!

Because, really, I haven't a clue!

Earlier she came up to me and said with a very serious face, Lee gwaida badger joo ga dye. I nodded and agreed. She then proceeded to empty the contents of the crockery cupboard onto the kitchen floor. I shall remember not to agree to Lee gwaida badger joo ga dye next time. See, I am slowly learning her language!

As well as learning odd words, she has also learned certain phrases and I find it amazing how she always uses them in context with the situation. For instance, when she builds a tower, or climbs her highchair or does something she is proud of she exclaims I did it! And when she she hides and we say Where's Mya? She emerges from her hiding place and announces, excitedly, Dare see is!
Too cute!

She loves animal sounds at the moment too.
She roars like a lion, hisses like a snake, meow's like a cat and quacks like a duck. Although sometimes these get a little confused and a duck says Raaa.
I get it. That's way more fun!

I love watching her vocal development and I can often see her trying really hard to repeat words I am saying to her. Every day she learns something new and its lovely seeing her little face light up when she knows she has said something right.

It's funny, I loved watching her crawl for the first time and I marvelled in her first steps but watching and hearing her learn to speak fills me with such pride and adoration knowing that part of that she has learned from me. It's so incredible seeing the bud of a tiny person flowering with new knowledge and skills.
So wonderful.

A bit about me - By Mya

Hi everyone, Mya here!

I thought, seeing as this whole blog is about me, that I would formally introduce myself.

So, this is me. I am 17 months old and totally cool.

I live with my mum, who is not cool. I mean for starters she thinks that every time I am busting out some moves to the Weekend Song on CBeebies, that its okay to join in, shaking what can only be described as the-giant-bum-of-doom! Its like she totally thinks shes Beyonce or something.

I also live with my dad. He's totally bald. Seriously, there is not a single hair on that head! Weird.

Anyways, moving swiftly on...

I spend most of my days exploring. This is made very difficult by my rather overbearing mother. She's a total pain in my baby butt! For instance, the other day I was taking my usual, daily stroll around the kitchen when I spotted something shiny up high. It was intriguing. I had to have it. It was out of my reach, so I tried jumping. That didn't work. I tried climbing up the cupboard doors but I just didn't have enough grip. Just when I was about to give up and fall to the floor screaming with failure, I had a stroke of genius. My princess ride-along toy! I knew this garish pink thing had to be good for something! I wheeled it into the kitchen, stood on top of it and reached up. I was inches from grasping the shiny thing when I was grabbed under the arms by my mum and carried away into the living room. Now, I love my mum, but I was not impressed. Not cool, mum. Not cool.

Besides exploring, other hobbies of mine include -

Singing - My parents watch this thing on TV called Xfactor and I'm pretty sure I would win it. No Joke.

Drawing - My dad bought me some wicked crayons. I do this thing where I stick them right up my nose! Haha, it's totally hilarious. My dad just doesn't get it. But seriously, drawing is fab. I even used my talent to spruce up a few of the boring walls in the house!

Pressing buttons - Doesn't matter what it is, if there is a button on it, I will press it!

Running - I started walking at 11 months and began running not long after that. I try and perfect my running technique everywhere I can. The best places I find to run are supermarkets, town centres and carparks. Unfortunately, my mum seems to think that my safety is far more important than my possible future career, running in the Olympics!

Okay, so that's a little bit about me.
I have to go now as mum is calling me for dinner. Its spaghetti bolognese tonight! I love it. It makes a fantastic pattern on the carpet!

Speak soon,

Mya moo xxx

You know you have a toddler when...

You search for hours to finally discover your car keys hidden in a ride-along car

You have an audience whilst going to the toilet ...

... and the audience starts poking your bits and laughing

You discover what its like to poo with someone sat on your lap

You find your jumper, straight out of the clean washing pile, has a glamorous smear of snot down it

Hoovering takes super-human strength because there is a small person riding on it

You start reading stories in a 'Borat' accent because if you have to listen to yourself read 'The noisy ninky-nonk' one more time you will have a mental breakdown!

You give up saying 'NO!' and let them eat the cat food

The Asda delivery guy gets to see your knickers, very proudly displayed on the head of the grinning child next to you

You eat a half chewed piece of toast because they wanted to 'share'

You are enjoying a relaxing bubble bath with a glass of wine, a giant rubber duck and a singing turtle

You have gone the whole day with make-up on only one eye because you were distracted mid-beautifying by a small person removing their nappy and peeing on the floor

You have a heart attack walking to the toilet in the middle of the night because you have stood on a laughing toy

Instead of pulling a pen out of your handbag, out comes a Smurf

Your toothbrush is being used as a floor cleaner

You hear 'Uh-oh' and wonder what has just been dropped down the toilet

In the car you realise you are singing 'Twinkle Twinkle' in your best opera voice, stopped at a busy pedestrian crossing, with the windows wide open

You smile and shrug at the Tesco's checkout assistant who notices you have cake in your hair and a mini cheddar in your cleavage

You get the most amazing kisses and don't care if your face gets covered in crumbs

You laugh every day and you realise that life is so much more fun in a toddler's world


You know you have a toddler when ... Part Two