Full disclosure: this poem is meant as a coping mechanism to deal with the emotions from one day of my baby turning into a Toddler. I adore my child if every way and mean no serious harm by the words chosen. Please read with total humour in mind.
There’s a moment where your child reaches a certain age
A moment can go from happiness to total rotten rage
Those loving looks you once exchanged
Left to watch Hey Duggee alone, questioning ‘have I been short-changed?‘
Now, this is not to say that there aren’t happy times
Where your bundle of joy smiles, and your heart bell chimes
Not every day is filled with a tantrum or three
Some are met with kisses and described as carefree
However, the 29th of May was one heck of a day
Where I was a nuisance and in my child’s way
Duggee failed me, affection was resisted
All his favourite toys were thrown and twisted
Breakfast started with toast on the floor
Then my child screamed and insisted that he required “MORE”
The dog became a target for aiming cheerios at
If I were so wise, I’d have hidden like the cat
Yet, still I persisted and encouraged him to eat
Until my floor resembled a junkyard and I admitted defeat
To the sofa I thought, and pulled out his books
He looked at me like he didn’t give two f***s
I moved on after having a book lobbed at my face
Thought ‘to the park’ come on son, let’s pick up the pace
He sat on the wood chips and stuck out his lip
Then began to cry … is this a guilt trip?
Should I have tried soft play instead?
Off we go, while he’s still full and fed
Fluorescent colours seemed to anger him more
As he laid on his front and kicked on the floor
As we headed home he moaned
The cars around me could here what he groaned
‘No’ seemed to be a key word that day
We arrived at the house but hit the brakes in the hallway
I won’t bore you with the full affair
All I’ll say is pots were thrown, I’d taken all I could bare
I looked at the cupboard, it seemed such a friendly place
I hovered for a moment and it looked pretty ace
Although dark in design, it seemed a light in my home
If I sat in there a moment would it save me from the gnome?
Would it make me a bad mother, would I have failed?
You’re talking gibberish Violet, you’ve usually got this parent thing nailed
Just in time, my husband walked through the door
My son turned to greet him and I wondered what we were in for
No tantrum, no crying, just a sweet smile and embrace
My husband wondered why I went red in the face
So that way the day, the 29th of May
That a cupboard became my haven, a safe place to hide away
Although I didn’t explore it, I still chuckle at the reason
All for the day, that my son committed ‘adorable son’ treason
Violet x
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