Dear precious first born… We have something to tell you

Mummy's Writing Darling

Dear precious first born, there is something pressing we need to discuss with you.

I write this on the eve of a fairly important event. You see, someone is arriving tomorrow – someone who you’re going to be spending a lot of time with – like it or not.

I know you’re young and we don’t talk much – unless it’s about frogs or cars. But I suppose now is as good a time as any to try and have this conversation. I know you think mummy has been eating A LOT lately and my stomach has outgrown the both of us. I see your horrified face when I’m in the shower – but I haven’t swallowed your monster truck set – I’ve been growing a little life long friend for you.

The good news is it’s a brother! And you know boys are cool right? Really cool. And he will love your cars! And your train set. But, of course, only if you want him to love them. No one will force you to share your cars with him. I know you don’t know the word “share” yet – I never learned it myself! But we will have plenty of time to discuss sharing in the years to come.

Now I don’t want you to worry about favouritism. It’s not an issue. You, my darling, are our precious first born! We only have eyes for you (but let’s just keep that between ourselves shall we? Your brother doesn’t need to know!)

Anyway! If the pregnancy is anything to go by – I think your brother is going to be an arse! So much more difficult than you were. But again – ssshh.

I’ve been wondering why on earth we decided to have another baby to be honest. You’re so wonderful! If it ain’t broke – why try and fix it?! What possessed us? Were we just showing off?! Was it a case of when you buy a fancy juicer you only use once and you feel like you haven’t got your money’s worth! We should use it one more time – just to see if it still works?!

But here we are and tomorrow our tiny little family will be transformed to a bigger one. Though we do promise – this will be the only addition. You can relax.

So although it might be unsettling / shocking tomorrow and over the next few months while you get used to him – we just want you to know that you’ll always be our precious first born and we could never ever love you any less! Er… That came out wrong. What I mean is – we will never change our love for you. Just don’t tell your bro.

I’m going to miss you so much over the next few days and I hope you don’t miss me too much. I also hope your dad doesn’t only feed you crisps and biscuits – I’ve given him a detailed list of instructions, don’t worry.

All my love,

Mamma.

(Dear baby number 2 – don’t worry! I’ve placated your brother, We know the truth – see you tomorrow). X

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The Arduous Age of Why

Mummy's Writing Darling

The Age of Why

My four year old has reached a mile stone. He has entered the age of ‘Why’. I had heard of this stage but had underestimated the damaging effect of this era on the parents. My sympathy is with you if you are currently in this age.

It started about two weeks ago on our way to swimming:

“Why do we need roads?”

Say what now?

“Why do we need roads?”

Erm… for the cars to go on? (Phew, dodged that one, glad that’s over!)

“Why do we need cars?”

Say what now?

“Why do we need cars?”

To get from A to B?

It’s at this point you realise that you’re really and truly not qualified to answer life’s toughest questions, to be a parent or, indeed, to be a human.

And the Hell just keeps on acomin.

“Why do cars have wheels?”

I frantically looked around for a Primary school teacher or a scientist.

So that they can move? (I literally don’t know enough about wheels).

“Why do we have bollards?”

Who the actual fuck has taught you about bollards? Who has been using that word around you? Who are you right now?

Then just one after the other, again and again and again. It never, ever stops.

“Why do we have grass? Why do we need animals? Why do we need trousers? Why do we swim in water? Why do we eat food? Why do we have a night time? Why do we sleep? Why do we wake up? Why do we poo?”

Where is sodding Nina and her Neurons? Go and ask her FFS!

“Why do we need children?” was my question that morning.

Then yesterday came the best one yet.

“Mummy, what are those big things on your belly?”

He meant my breasts. I wondered what to call them at first – again, no one has qualified me to answer medical questions. Boobs? Boobies? Tits? What will be the worst thing he can repeat loudly on the bus when he sees another pair?

Those are breasts darling.

“Why do you need them?”

I thought long and hard….

Well, darling, they feed babies and they sometimes get me free drinks.

Education done.

Mummy's Writing Darling
The age of why