Shit the boychild does

Last Sunday I made a crumble for my parents. They lovingly look after my children once a week (and likewise the in-laws in case they ever read this). As a little bitty thank you I baked.

7.30am on Tuesday morning: I got out the crumble, put it on our kitchen table bagged up good to go in the car.

7.32am: I go outside to start the car to warm it up for my little baby children.

7.33am: The girlchild screams ‘MUMMMMMMY EMERGENCY’.

7.33am: I rush inside and the boychild has pulled off the crumble onto the floor and the entire thing has smashed.

I’d like to say this is a rare moment. Perhaps it was my fault for putting it within a mile of Mini Mr Tickle’s reach.

However, this is the regular bullshit I have to deal with.

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This was a coaster he bit a chunk out of recently. Great.

A few weeks ago, on a work morning, I did my usual rushing round the house, gathering belongings, yelling at the kids that we need to leave. In that final minute we had to put on coats and shoes, I discovered the boychild had dragged a chair from the kitchen table to the surface where the fish tank is, reached about a metre to the fish food and put the entire tub into the tank. Oh and also added a bottle of hand soap – because clearly the fish needed a wash.

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This is the fish pre-immersed in fish food and hand soap.

FFS.

The fish tank looked like soup with the poor little buggers barely visible. Cue me then frantically scooping out the sludge, leaving practically no water for the fish, then filling it up with tap water, which in doing so caused all the fish shit at the bottom to erupt volcanically. Love a morning like that before my working week.

I adore my son (and my daughter natch’). He is a character. He is funny, cheeky, clever, loving and also a boundary pusher. We love his personality, but it is testing. I know everyone says and feels their child is harder work than anyone else’s, but seriously, my boy is definitely harder than most.

Birthday parties – I see other children having fun then having time to chill on their parents’ laps. Aside from checking in with me, he never sits still at a party.

Playdates – Why is it my child who always makes the most mess/hates the concept of sharing/is more physical than any others I know?

Noise – Loudest. Child. Ever.

The weird thing is, if I’m honest, despite all his little challenging behaviour he is the most amazing boy I have ever met. I wouldn’t change him for the world. He is absolutely perfect, and even though he’s about to turn 3, he will always be my amazing little baby boy.

Here are some of the things he’s done:

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White sofas – ideal for drawing on Mumma.

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My sister may have painted her tea set – but trashing it is even more fun.

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Permanent red marker on the fire place ONE WEEK before we move. Consider it done.

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Let’s not stop at fire places eh!

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Mumma I know you hate those kitchen handles – best idea yet – push Play D’oh into them. Sweet.

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