Ooh I Say: The Ten Funniest Things The Toddler Said Last Week

Welcome to this week’s screening of Carry On Toddlering…sorry, this week’s Ten Funniest Things post.

Silly Mummy presents Kenneth Williams…sorry, The Toddler:

1. On her mind, ready
The Toddler is preparing for one of her trips again. It appears there is some confusion today as to the imaginary weather. The Toddler says, ‘Going now. Very cold outside. Very warm outside.’
Silly Mummy laughs, ‘Make your mind up!’
The Toddler replies, ‘Yes, mind up. Mind’s all ready to go.’

2. On stealing from The Baby
The Toddler has snatched a handful of The Baby’s lunch from the highchair. Silly Mummy says, ‘Don’t eat The Baby’s food, please. Give it back to her.’ The Toddler returns the food. Silly Mummy turns to The Baby: ‘The Baby, if The Toddler takes your food, say, “Stop thief!”‘ The Baby smiles. Two minutes later, The Toddler sidles over to the highchair, grabs another handful of The Baby’s food, and helpfully says, ‘Stop thief!’

3. On the Bandersnatch
The Toddler is watching Alice in Wonderland. She points at the screen: ‘What’s that?’
Silly Mummy says, ‘That’s the Bandersnatch.’
The Toddler watches the Bandersnatch chase Alice: ‘Look, it’s the big bad Bander…thingy!’

4. On Silly Mummy, very funny
Silly Mummy is chattering away, nothing very groundbreaking. The Toddler wanders over, ‘You’re very funny.’ (*Silly Mummy takes a bow*) Well, thank you very much, The Toddler: Silly Mummy will be here all week.

5. On childrens, responsibility for
The Toddler is watching Balamory. She appears to have decided that she is looking after the school children. Who are older than her. And aren’t in the living room. She announces, ‘Hello, childrens. I’m going to come with you.’ She proceeds to tear off in the direction of the door. She trips and falls. Her little voice can be heard: ‘Whoops! Sorry, childrens!’

6. On manners
The Toddler is feeling very polite. She sticks her face in Silly Mummy’s: ‘Might I kiss you?’

7. On Sleeping Beauty
The Toddler’s skill at abridging stories is in evidence again. This time she is telling Sleeping Beauty: ‘Is sleeping beauty. Once upon a time…was Sleeping Beauty.’ She really knows how to capture the key elements of a story.

8. On Silly Mummy, sweetheart
The Toddler wanders up to Silly Mummy. Silly Mummy says, ‘Hello, sweetheart.’
The Toddler replies, ‘Hello, sweetheart Mummy.’

9. On being Kenneth Williams
The Toddler is holding her water at a precarious angle. Silly Mummy says, ‘Can you be careful with the water?’
The Toddler replies, ‘Ooh I say!’ Silly Mummy didn’t realise we were in Carry On Toddlering.

10. On sorting it out
The Toddler has a new obsession with removing pyjamas from The Baby. The Baby is wandering the living room in her nappy. Silly Mummy says, ‘The Baby might be a bit cold now you’ve undressed her, The Toddler.’
The Toddler sets off after The Baby, ‘I’ll go and sort it out.’ Despite The Toddler’s air of calm competence, Silly Mummy can’t help but notice that she ‘sorts it out’ by commandeering The Baby’s ball. The Baby is still rather naked. And she now has no ball.

Some other posts in the ‘Ten Funniest Things The Toddler Said Last Week’ feature
Week 7: Calm Down
Week 9: That’s Not Fair
Week 14: Childrens
Week 15: We Are Not a Stinker

22nd September 2015

The Sound of Poppins

The Toddler is singing:
‘Supercalifragilistic*mumble mumble*docious
Even though The Sound of Music…’
Yes, she has created a Mary Poppins/Sound of Music mash up. The hair dye has not fooled her: Julie Andrews is Julie Andrews, no need for separate songs around here.

I have been hoping she will continue on with the original lyrics of Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious:
‘Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious
Even though The Sound of Music is something quite atrocious…’
Accurate, no?

Thus far, The Toddler has not obliged. I have therefore kindly completed the verse on her behalf. I expect that Julie Andrews will be wanting to use my new song, and she is very welcome.
‘Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious
Even though The Sound of Music is something quite atrocious
If you watch Mary Poppins long enough, you always will forgive me
Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.’

Obviously, following this triumph, I was feeling a little bit pleased with myself, and I have therefore taken the whole thing too far. Oh, yes, I have come up with further Mary Poppins/Sound of Music mashups.

Introducing The Sound of Poppins, in which flying nanny nuns ward off marauding Nazis and amorous chimney sweeps in fairly equal measure. Featuring an award winning soundtrack*, including:

1. Sister Maria Suffragette

3. My Carpet Bag Things

4. Let’s Go Fly a Swastika

Actually, they could have used Mary Poppins in The Sound of Music. She’d have got those troublesome Nazis under control. Practically Perfect people don’t stand for invasions of Poland. Of course, then who would have stopped those bloody awful children caterwauling? (People claim the Nazis did nothing for the arts. No one ever remembers that they got the Von Trapps off the stage. Credit where it’s due, I say.)

(*Someone is surely going to award me Daftest Blog Post of the Week, right?)

15th September 2015

We Are Not a Stinker: The Ten Funniest Things The Toddler Said Last Week

It’s Ten Funniest Things time. Last week started quietly, but Silly Mummy is pleased to say that The Toddler stepped up her game, pulled it out of the bag, and turned into Queen Victoria. As you do.

So please curtesy for Queen Toddler:

1. On cooking and the Can Can
The Toddler has a new television obsession. She enjoys ‘Can Can Cook’.* This is obviously that CBeebies programme where Katy teaches us how to make risotto whilst wearing a frilly dress and performing a high-kicking French dance. It’s an innovative idea, but only for the very coordinated among us.

(*She means ‘I Can Cook‘, which Silly Mummy now realises is disappointingly lacking in anyone doing the Can Can.)

2. On the royal we
The Toddler has a new identity. As Queen Victoria. She has done a poo and Silly Mummy says, ‘I think you’re a stinker.’
The Toddler replies with the royal we: ‘We are not a stinker, are we?’ Silly Mummy believes we are a stinker, but we are certainly not amused. (See what we did there?)

3. On one’s boots
Further to the above, The Toddler apparently also now receives her shoes in a manner befitting her new role as Queen Victoria: ‘There’s one’s boots.’

4. On eating The Baby’s food
The Toddler has just finished her lunch. The Baby is still eating in the high chair. The Toddler says, ‘May I go and see The Baby?’
Silly Mummy has some experience with the possible motivation behind this request: ‘Yes, but please don’t take her food. Let her eat her food.’
The Toddler nods, ‘Okay.’ She pauses. ‘I might have a little bit.’ It was not a suggestion, The Toddler!

5. On thank you, sooooo much
The Toddler’s usual form of showing gratitude is now: ‘Thank you. Thank you sooooo much.’ Is she really, really grateful? Or is she really sarcastic? Did anyone watch Father Ted? Remember Father Jack’s tone when he was doing an exaggerated, sarcastic thank you? It’s exactly that tone. Yep: she’s sarcastic, isn’t she?

6. On herself, only little
Silly Mummy is explaining to The Toddler why she can’t eat a whole rock bun: ‘That’s a grown up size portion of cake. You’re only little.’
The Toddler decides to concede the point: ‘Yes, I am a bit little.’

7. On The Baby, how she should eat
The Toddler is offering advice and instruction to The Baby on an area in which she has great expertise: eating. She is pointing at The Baby’s mouth, and explaining exactly what she should do: ‘Eat it very properly.’

8. On naughty penguins/oranges
The Toddler is pushing around a toy shopping trolley. She brings it over to Silly Mummy and opines, ‘That one’s being naughty!’ She points at a plastic orange (which does its best to look innocent), and continues, ‘That penguin!’ Well, that is a naughty penguin, living a double life as an orange. Thank god The Toddler can see through its web of deception to the (naughty) penguin within.

9. On supercalifragilisticexpialidocious
The Toddler’s love of Mary Poppins has still not abated, and she continues to attempt to learn to say ‘supercalifragilisticexpialidocious’. She has made progress, and can now say about half of the word, but she is using it in a rather odd context. The Baby has taken one of The Toddler’s toys: ‘Give it back, The Baby! Supercalifragilistic you!’ It is possible she thinks supercalifragilisticexpialidocious is a threat. Or voodoo.

10. On reading
The Toddler picks up one of Silly Mummy’s books: ‘Right then, Mummy’s book. Right then, let’s read this.’ Following this pep talk, The Toddler starts turning pages. After a few pages, she looks up and says sadly, ‘I’m not very well at reading books.’

Some other posts in the ‘Ten Funniest Things The Toddler Said Last Week’ feature
Week 2: I’ll Tell You What, Mummy
Week 5: Don’t Do It
Week 13: I’m Not a Hufflepuff
Week 14: Childrens

14th September 2015

Bob’s Algebra, Fred’s Hair: Should Schools Dictate Appearance?

With new stories of children sent home for failure to comply with their school’s uniform or appearance rules, we seem to be back to the question of whether schools should be allowed to dictate students’ appearance. On one side you have those supporting the students’ individuality, arguing their rights and freedom of expression are being infringed by the schools. On the other, those who argue that the students and their parents knew the rules, and the rules are there for a reason.

I don’t believe either of these positions quite cuts to the core of the issue. The answer to whether schools should be allowed to dictate pupils’ appearance must surely lie in what we believe schools should be achieving, what we believe their purpose is in respect of how they shape children.

Firstly, let’s just put to rest a couple of fallacies that are sometimes trotted out in support of uniform policies: that they save parents money, and that they create equality (thus reducing bullying). School uniforms are expensive, and children outgrow them at a rate of knots. Furthermore, children don’t wear uniforms outside school, thus creating a need for normal clothes in addition to the uniform. Normal clothes that could have also been worn to school if the school had no uniform. No, uniforms do not save parents money. Nor do they create equality. Students will always find a way to distinguish themselves: a way of wearing the uniform that is the way, accessories that you must have to be accepted. There will always be the popular ones and the unpopular ones. There will always be bullies. Uniforms don’t, as is sometimes suggested, prevent children from being able to tell whose parents have less money. The tendency of teenagers to form cliques, and to judge and pick on others, comes from their own insecurities, their fragile sense of self, and from what they learn from adults. (If you want to see the latter point in action, take a look at the comments from many adults on the articles about the girl with the leopard print hair. You’ll see where children learn judgemental behaviour.) Not only do uniforms not prevent students from bullying others, it could even be argued that uniforms, by telling children it is important to be the same, actively encourage the idea of intolerance towards those who are different.

Oh, and I suppose creation of a school identity should be briefly mentioned, too. It can, of course, be said that uniforms do achieve this aim (whether this needs to be an aim is perhaps more questionable, and that it can in any case be achieved without the need for a full uniform is indisputable). However, identifying the school certainly provides no justification for restricting students’ hairstyles, piercings, shoes or tightness of trousers (all the areas of appearance forming the usual subject matter of the disputed cases, in fact).

So, school uniforms are not about money or equality. School uniform and appearance codes are about conformity. Some rules exist to keep children safe. Some to tackle bullying or other unacceptable behaviour. Some are about the structure of the school day. Others the standard and level of work required from students. These rules all serve some specific purpose relating to the educating of children. What purpose do uniforms and rules on appearance serve? How do they further the students’ education? They have no point beyond the promotion of conformity. A rule for a rule’s sake.

Such rules are, of course, effective for the purpose of psychological conditioning. This is why so many exist in the military. Rules about tradition, appearance, ceremony, ritual. They have no direct significance to the work carried out by the armed forces but, indirectly, they are relevant to the effective running of a military. They exist to ingrain obedience and order; to create a mindset of following rules for the sake of following rules, even when you don’t agree with them or can’t see the point. It is not hard to see why that is important within the military, where it is necessary that people follow orders without question simply because they are orders. It is also, of course, important to encourage those in the armed forces to identify as a group, not as an individual. Rules that exist to make everyone look and act the same help with this. If the armed forces did not have a mindset of compliance and conformity, there could be chaos and disorder in potentially disastrous circumstances. These types of rules thus play their part in a form of psychological conditioning that is necessary for an effective, organised military.

But schools are not the military. Is conformity necessary for effective education? Or is it actually damaging to education, hindering free thinking and independence? This brings us back to the point: the need for uniforms and appearance codes surely depends on what you want to achieve. If your main priority is to make as many children as possible conformist and obedient, seen and not heard, then, yes, uniform codes probably help. They serve to instil in children the idea that they must all be the same and they must follow rules, regardless of whether the rule has a point.

Is that really what we want for our children? There is an important distinction between school children and the armed forces. The armed forces are a self-selecting group; they are people who have chosen to submit to these rules and this type of psychological conditioning. Children do not choose to go into the school system. Whilst those in the military know that all these rules they live by are a consequence of something they chose for themselves, for a child who does not agree with these school rules, they are simply alienating. Something forced upon them for no real reason. Do we want to alienate children from the education system?

Further, those in the military have selected their path, have decided that a military career is what they want, and worth obeying the rules for. Children’s futures are not yet decided. Among our children are the potential leaders, inventors, researchers, teachers, artists. For those futures, is conformity something to aspire to? Conformity and group mentality may be important in some areas of life, but in others freedom and individuality are everything. Do we hinder potential in those areas if we crush children with rules and uniformity?

Yes, children need to learn rules. Rules are part of society. But there are numerous other rules in school for them to follow. Just going to school is itself a rule. The question is not whether they need to follow rules, but whether they need to follow rules that serve no other purpose beyond the following of the rule.

Finally, what are we afraid of in allowing children to be individual, unregimented? Again, this is not the military. It is not a risk of chaos in a combat zone. If a whole year 9 maths class has strangely coloured hair and non-regulation shoes, what do we think is likely to happen? Is Bob’s ability to do quadratic equations dependent upon the colour of Fred’s hair? (In fact, ironically, anyone who thinks it is probably didn’t grasp the difference between independent and mutually exclusive probabilities in their own maths studies, despite their regulation hairstyle.)

I believe there is one thing military strategy can certainly teach us here, and it isn’t the psychological conditioning of conformity, it’s this: pick your battles. Being individualistic and non-conformist does not indicate that a child does not have potential in education and beyond, possibly even quite the opposite. If we are willing to alienate or exclude a child from education over purple hair or tight trousers, I can’t help but feel we may be missing what is actually important.

13th September 2015

The Cat in the Is That a HAT?*

(* Or: What on Earth is Happening in The Cat in the Hat?)

As we sat all alone
In our house for the day,
We wondered was it legal
For our mother to leave us this way?

We are after all only four and a half.
Social Services would not like it.
Not one little bit.

We did not roll in jam
Or paint on the wall.
Despite being left unattended at four,
Quite inexplicably we did nothing at all.

Then a cat came on in.
(Was that cat wearing a hat?)
Did our mother even lock the door?
Seems like bad parenting, that.

Our fish was upset
But his priorities were wrong.
Never mind the cat in the house:
Where had our mother gone?

Undeterred by the lack of an opposable thumb,
The cat began juggling with…
Is that a rake? Where did that come from?

Then our fish was dropped into a pot.
Did the lack of oxygen stop him from moaning?
Why, no, it did not.

So our fish could not breathe,
But still kept on telling
That cat he must leave.

The cat would not leave, he put up a fight.
Perhaps he’s a squatter.
It would serve our mother right.

No, the cat would not go
(Seriously, was that a hat),
And he brought out two Things.
Well, just fancy that.

What the hell were those Things?
No, really: animal, plant or mineral?
And how did they fly those kites in the house
Where there’s no wind at all?

Then our fish saw our mother on her way home.
So we had to capture those Things and throw out the cat.
Tidy the house and…
Why was he wearing a hat?

Luckily, it took our mother some time from window to door.
We were able to remove the cat (and his hat)
With no sign at all.

Our mother came in, opening the door with a creak.
She asked us, ‘Did you have fun?’
What a cheek!
What a cheek!
What a cheek!

Child abandonment.
A cat with a hat.
And those Things were quite strange,
We’re sure about that.

Should we report her?
What should we do?
Does this story really
Seem normal to you?

11th September 2015

Invasion of the Pyjama Snatchers

The baby has taken off her pyjama bottoms and is waving them over her head. The Toddler runs over and snatches the pyjama bottoms. She tries to put them on. The Toddler is now in two pyjama bottoms. That’s not right. The Toddler takes off The Baby’s pyjama bottoms. So that she can take off her own pyjama bottoms, and put The Baby’s back on. The Toddler is now wearing just one pair of pyjama bottoms. The Baby’s. On one leg. (The Baby, meanwhile, is wandering the living room giving her bottom a good airing.)

The Toddler confirms the current situation: ‘Wearing The Baby’s trousers on now.’ She starts trying to walk towards Silly Mummy and The Baby. She is hampered by having both of her legs in one hole of some pyjama bottoms that are too small for her. She takes them off. And puts them on her arms.

The Toddler is now waving her own discarded pyjama bottoms at The Baby: ‘The Baby, need to put these ones on now.’ Indeed. It certainly wouldn’t do for anyone to be wearing their own pyjamas. Or, even better, actual clothes.

The Toddler, wearing The Baby’s pyjama bottoms on her arms, her own pyjama top, and nothing on her bottom, announces: ‘Need to go to work now.’ Ah, well, that explains it. The Toddler is getting dressed for work. Her work evidently has a strict dress code: no jeans, no trainers, The Baby’s pyjamas…

The Toddler is still chattering about her plans for the day: ‘Need to go to shops first. Not gone to work yet. Daddy gone to work.’ (Shirt, tie, socks and Silly Mummy’s pyjama bottoms on his head, in case you were wondering.)

The Toddler declares: ‘I’m going to go now.’ She marches to the door, The Baby’s pyjamas still on her arms. She is very busy, and can’t hang around any longer waiting for The Baby to get her arse into gear, put both her legs into one hole of someone else’s pyjamas, and get ready for work.

8th September 2015

Childrens: The Ten Funniest Things The Toddler Said Last Week

In this week’s Ten Funniest Things feature, The Toddler is trying to tell jokes despite being really very, very sick. Meanwhile, The Baby is embroiled in a stand off with a toy remote control.

It’s The Toddler:

1. On Balamory, what’s the story in
The Toddler is sitting on the sofa. Apropos of nothing she suddenly pipes up, ‘Right then, what’s the story in Balamory?…Well, it’s quite windy.’ In all fairness, that is a reasonable representation of both the usual excitement level of the stories on Balamory, and the likely weather in Scotland. Offers of a script writing position will surely flood in.

2. On pants, cleaning with
The Toddler is supposed to be getting dressed. Instead, she is cleaning the coffee table with her underwear. Silly Mummy’s suggestion that perhaps we do not need to be cleaning the coffee table with our underwear is dismissed: ‘Yes, I do need to clean with my pants.’

3. On being patronising
The Toddler has this week been consolidating her position as the Boss of Everything by calling everybody else ‘childrens’ whenever possible, in her best patronising tone. Silly Daddy dropped the bag containing the nail clippers on the floor whilst trying to put it out of reach. The Toddler was on hand with instructions on how everyone should proceed: ‘Childrens, please don’t go through the nails.’

4. Also on also
The Toddler has learnt the word ‘also’, and also she likes to use it a lot, also. She is showing Silly Mummy some of her toys: ‘Have this one also. Also got this one and these. Also.’

5. On compliments, giving and receiving
The Toddler has progressed from last week’s self forgiveness. She is now complimenting and thanking herself. She is making a pattern on the floor with some stacking cups. It’s quite good, if she does say so herself (which, incidentally, was very kind of her to say, if she does say so herself): ‘Is very good…Thank you.’

6. On subliminal messages
There’s something The Toddler feels Silly Daddy should be doing. She is attempting subliminal messaging to prompt him. She sidles over to him, whispering, ‘Food, food. Chop, chop: get food.’

7. On going to work with Silly Daddy
The Toddler has decided to go to work with Silly Daddy. Silly Daddy has just left. The Toddler yells at the door, ‘Wait a minute I got to come with you now, just wait there a minute!’ She runs off in the opposite direction to the door. Presumably to get her tie: she’s not dressed for the office. Fortunately, Silly Daddy was not waiting on the other side of the door, as The Toddler does not return. She is now discussing tea making with The Baby. Perhaps she remembered she does not have a tie.

8. On bright lights
Silly Mummy is squinting because the light is in her eyes. The Toddler notices: ‘What’s wrong?’
‘It’s just a bit bright.’
The Toddler looks at The Baby, who is also looking a bit squinty: ‘The Baby has brights, too, look.’

9. On telling jokes
Silly Mummy and Silly Daddy, rather ambitiously, have decided to try to teach a two year old bad jokes. Knock knock jokes quickly fail. The routine is explained to The Toddler. She nods. Silly Daddy starts: ‘Knock knock.’ The Toddler looks at him expectantly. Silly Daddy prompts The Toddler: ‘You say, “Who’s there?” Okay? Knock knock.’
The Toddler wants to knock too. She bangs on the table: ‘Knock knock!’
Silly Mummy decides to try something else: ‘What do you call a man with a spade on his head?’
The Toddler does not know. Silly Daddy tries to help her. He whispers, ‘Doug.’
The Toddler triumphantly gives Silly Mummy the answer, which she may have misheard: ‘Dork!’

10. On malingering
The Toddler has taken up malingering. She arranges herself on the sofa and looks pitiful. ‘I’m not very well.’
Silly Mummy says, ‘Oh dear, aren’t you? What feels the matter?’
‘I’m quite unwell. I’m really very sick. Very, very sick, yes.’ Silly Mummy points out that it is a good job that it is nap time and The Toddler is about to go for a lie down. The Toddler makes a remarkable recovery: ‘No, can’t do that.’

Meanwhile…
The Baby is arguing with a toy remote control, which is trying to tell her the Spanish for nine. The Baby does not want to talk about the Spanish for nine. She is trying to change the subject to a matter of more interest to her. The Baby and the remote are now engaged in a stand off, and are shouting at each other. The Baby presses a button. The remote says, ‘Neuve.’
The Baby yells, ‘Duck!’ She presses the button again.
‘Neuve.’
‘Duck!’
‘Neuve.’
‘Duck!’

Other posts in the ‘Ten Funniest Things The Toddler Said Last Week’ feature
Week 2: I’ll Tell You What, Mummy
Week 5: Don’t Do It
Week 9: That’s Not Fair
Week 10: Silly Me
Week 12: Undone, Everyone
Week 13: I’m Not a Hufflepuff

7th September 2015

Daddy on the Naughty Step

There is something of a commotion going on in the Silly household. Silly Daddy has been naughty. No one but The Toddler knows what Silly Daddy has actually done, but it appears to be quite serious. An immediate naughty step offence, in fact.

The Toddler orders: ‘Daddy, naughty step.’ Silly Daddy protests against being sent to the naughty step, but The Toddler is unmoved: ‘Daddy, go to naughty step now!’ Silly Daddy is not giving in without a fight; he does not want to sit on the naughty step. The Toddler, however, has brushed up on her Super Nanny* technique, and she is not negotiating: ‘Go and sit on naughty step.’
Silly Daddy realises resistance is futile and resigns himself to his punishment: ‘How long do I have to sit on the naughty step?’
The Toddler considers: ‘Five minutes. Go and sit on naughty step five minutes!’ Silly Mummy feels obligated to remind The Toddler that naughty step time should be one minute for every year of age, and that Silly Daddy therefore needs to remain on the step for 34 minutes. This may seem mean of Silly Mummy, but Silly Mummy is acting in Silly Daddy’s best interests. How will he learn if the rules are not applied properly and consistently? The Toddler ponders Silly Mummy’s correction, nods and confirms: ‘Two minutes. That’s right.’ Silly Daddy looks smug.

In accordance with the strictly enforced timeframe for Silly Daddy’s naughty step sitting, exactly four seconds later The Toddler announces: ‘Say sorry? You say sorry, get up now.’

Silly Mummy can’t help but notice that there has been a further breach of naughty step protocol. Silly Daddy has not been reminded of why he was asked to sit on the naughty step. Indeed, Silly Daddy has not been told what he had done wrong at any time. No one has. Silly Mummy wants to know. Silly Mummy says to The Toddler, ‘Don’t forget to tell Daddy why he was naughty. What had he done?’
The Toddler announces Silly Daddy’s naughty step-worthy misbehaviour: ‘Didn’t sit on naughty step.’ Ah, of course. Toddler logic. Having not done anything wrong, Silly Daddy was unsurprisingly not sitting on the naughty step. This was very naughty, and required immediate banishment to sit on the naughty step. Presumably to think about what he hadn’t done.

The Toddler continues, ‘But Daddy’s better now. Good boy, Daddy!’ Well, yes, Silly Mummy can see how sitting on the naughty step would have made the naughty behaviour of not sitting on the naughty step better.

The Toddler is now trying out the behavioural technique of positive reinforcement. Daddy has been a good boy, he will be rewarded: ‘Can sit on sofa now. Clap, Mummy! Clap!’ Silly Mummy obediently claps Silly Daddy’s progression from naughty step to sofa. Silly Mummy doesn’t want to end up on the naughty step.

(*She must have been taking a break from her usual favourite nanny Mary Poppins. If The Toddler had been channelling Mary Poppins, Silly Daddy would have been singing songs and clicking his fingers. Mary Poppins would not use the naughty step: practically perfect people NEVER use the naughty step.)

4th September 2015

Why Breast v Formula Should Not Be a Debate

We all know the breastfeeding versus formula feeding debate. We’ve all heard the passionate, and often outright hostile, arguments on each side. Many of us probably have an opinion one way or the other. Well, this post is not going to be about mine. No, I am not here to wade into the debate, I am here to ask whether it should be a debate at all.

I think not. You see, in this country (and the rest of the developed world), both breast and formula feeding are valid options. This feeding dilemma is not, in fact, a dilemma. It is a choice. An extremely fortunate choice between two options that are both ultimately safe and acceptable.

Yes, breastfeeding is obviously what nature intended. No, it being a natural process does not mean that all mothers and babies can do it. That is not how nature works. In nature, in all species, there are young who are unable to feed effectively. They die. It is natural selection. We as a species have developed to the point where we deem it unacceptable for some of our young to simply be allowed to starve. As with so many aspects of life, we have interfered in nature and developed alternatives. That’s great. But some of us seem to have forgotten along the way that, of course, not every mother and baby is able to breastfeed just because it is nature. We should appreciate the amazing alternatives that have been developed, rather than insist that all mothers must be able to breastfeed if they really tried.

About these alternatives. So they aren’t natural. A lot of things in modern life aren’t. They have been carefully formulated, used for generations. They are safe. They work. Formula fed babies grow up just fine. Yes, there are certain benefits to breast milk that formula milk cannot replicate but, in the developed world, the difference won’t be life or death, the impact is not significant.

Breast milk is cheaper, it’s quicker, it’s ready prepared. Of course, it puts every feed onto the mother. That is not always very convenient or practical in a modern world. Mothers do not sit in a cave and suckle young these days. They are expected to do things, see people, go out, often work. 2-3 hourly feeds, requiring the partial exposing of body parts, can be a strain. Formula, meanwhile, is more difficult to prepare, costs money, doesn’t benefit the immune system. On the other hand, feeding can be shared with other people, and no one feels awkward about doing it in public. It’s swings and roundabouts. There are positives and negatives to both options.

The key is that we have this choice. We have a choice and it really doesn’t matter which option we choose. Not in the grand scheme of things. Whichever way you decide to feed your baby, there will have been pluses and minuses, and your baby will have received nutrition, will have grown and thrived.

This is not a dilemma. There is nothing to debate. A dilemma is when you are HIV positive (communicable through breast milk), and have no option but to breastfeed your baby or allow it to starve. A dilemma is when formula milk has been aggressively pushed as an alternative by the formula companies, but there is no clean water to make it with, no sterilisation facilities, and you cannot afford enough formula to properly feed your baby. A dilemma is when you are too weak yourself to effectively breastfeed an infant, but have no other safe options available.

The choice we have in Britain is between two non-harmful, acceptable alternatives. Yet, we manage to fight about this choice. For some women in the world, their choices are between which potential cause of death they want for their baby. AIDS? Deadly water borne infections? Starvation? That is a ‘choice’ people should be fighting about.

Arguing over breast or formula, judging and criticising others for making a different – but still perfectly safe – choice for their child, is surely a monumental waste of time and energy. Preaching to another British mother for feeding in a different way from you is pointless. Nothing is achieved. She won’t appreciate your interference. Wouldn’t that energy and passion for the cause be better spent campaigning for those mothers in the world who desperately need help to be able to give adequate and safe milk to their babies? They would appreciate your interference.

Put the effort into a real crisis, a debate worth having. Make a difference. Because irritating Cheryl next door over breast being best isn’t making a difference to anything, except maybe Cheryl’s Christmas card list.

2nd September 2015

Not Little Red Riding Toddler

Once upon a time, there was a little toddler, who did not live in a village by a forest. She never wore a red riding cloak (though she sometimes wore a bumble bee outfit), and no one called her Little Red Riding Toddler.

One day, Not Little Red Riding Toddler said, ‘I’m going to see my grandma.’ So she packed an imaginary picnic to take to Grandma’s house, and didn’t put on a red cloak. Silly Mummy warned her not to dawdle on her way: dangerous babies lurked in the living room.

So Not Little Red Riding Toddler set out to visit Grandma. On her journey, she came across some beautiful pull along turtles and a tea set. She promptly forgot Silly Mummy’s warning, and stopped to sniff the turtles and pick a few tea cups. She did not notice when a shadowy Silly Daddy approached and snuck onto the sofa.

Silly Daddy was not interested in the slightest to hear that Not Little Red Riding Toddler was going to see her grandma. He gobbled up something more likely to fall into the category of ‘leftovers’ than ‘Grandma’, before making minimal (no) effort to dress as Grandma.

Not Little Red Riding Toddler arrived in front of Silly Daddy. Silly Daddy continued to devote his best efforts to not looking like Grandma. Without needing to question Silly Daddy’s eyes, ears or teeth, Not Little Red Riding Toddler declared, ‘You’re not Grandma!’

Not Little Red Riding Toddler was nothing if not persistent. She was visiting Grandma. She had not visited Grandma. She announced again, ‘I’m going to see my grandma.’

Presently, Not Little Red Riding Toddler reappeared in front of Silly Daddy, who was still showing remarkably little interest in pretending to be Grandma. Not Little Red Riding Toddler was once again able to see right through Silly Daddy’s complete lack of disguise: ‘You’re not Grandma!’ Not Little Red Riding Toddler knew who Silly Daddy was really: ‘You’re the big bad wolf. Roar!’

So, in something of a role reversal, Not Little Red Riding Toddler roared at the big bad wolf, who disappointingly failed to either chase or attempt to eat anyone. Nonetheless, The Baby Woodcutter appeared at that moment, brandishing a toy remote control at the Silly Daddy Wolf, just in case. The Silly Daddy Wolf situation under control, Not Little Red Riding ~~Goldfish~~ Toddler announced, yet again, ‘I’m going to see my grandma!’

Later, Not Little Red Riding Toddler returned to Silly Mummy, where she declared that she was actually Peppa Pig (of course), and was just…off to see her grandma.

And they all lived repetitively ever after.

1st September 2015

I’m Not a Hufflepuff: The Ten Funniest Things The Toddler Said Last Week

It’s that time of the week again: the Ten Funniest Things feature.

Very appropriately on the very day we all pile onto Platform Nine and Three Quarters, The Toddler is talking Hogwarts houses.

On with the sorting…sorry, talking, with The Toddler:

1. On herself, talking all the time
The Toddler has a bit of a problem, which she explains to Silly Mummy: ‘I talk all the time. I don’t want to.’

2. On Hogwarts houses
The Toddler appears to quite like Harry Potter, though Silly Mummy had assumed she did not take that much in. Silly Mummy assumed wrong. The Toddler is roaring and huffing, leading Silly Mummy to ask, ‘Are you the big bad wolf? Do you huff and puff?’
The Toddler gives Silly Mummy a disparaging look, ‘No, I’m not a Hufflepuff.’ There you go: taken it all in, right down to knowing which house is, frankly, a bit rubbish. Any allegation of being a Hufflepuff (or even something that sounds a little bit like it) will be firmly denied by The Toddler and her people (The Baby).

3. On origami
Silly Mummy has had a rainy day activity brainwave*: ‘Would you like to do some origami?’
The Toddler would like to do some origami: ‘Yes, me do gabagoombadi!’
(*It wasn’t a brainwave. The Toddler is two. The Baby is one. Origami is fiddly folding of small pieces of paper. It was a stupid idea. Miraculously, a dog, a crane, a waterlily, a jumping frog and a giraffe were made. The Baby ate the frog and the giraffe. The lily was inexplicably deeply offensive to The Toddler. She still cries if it is shown to her.)

4. On best friends
The Toddler plops herself down next to The Baby, puts her arm around her, and announces, ‘We’re best friends!’ The Baby does not appear to have a say in the matter, but looks quite pleased anyway.

5. On being a sandwich
The Toddler is being a funny girl, and Silly Mummy tells her so. The Toddler disagrees: ‘I’m not a funny girl – I’m a sandwich!’ Ah, well, Silly Mummy always did get those two mixed up.

6. On forgiving yourself
The Toddler is looking at a display in the book shop. She knocks something over and picks it back up, muttering to herself, ‘Oh sorry, sorry…It’s okay, don’t worry.’ She may have taken learning to forgive yourself a little literally.

7. On baby bumps
The Toddler has had a little collision with The Baby in the hallway, but she has it under control: ‘Sorry, gorgeous. You okay, gorgeous?’ She even knows a song for the situation: ‘Ouch said the baby bumps in to door.’

8. On imaginary friends, not holding hands
The Toddler is wandering around, talking to herself: ‘You not want to hold my hand? No? I go back to the the door?’ It sounds to Silly Mummy like The Toddler has a not very friendly imaginary friend.
Silly Mummy asks, ‘Did your imaginary friend not want to hold your hand?’
‘No, didn’t want to.’ Well, it’s nice that The Toddler realises that imaginary people can have personal space issues too.

9. On Grandma, good girl
The Toddler has had her nappy changed by Grandma. She feels it is important to encourage this sort of behaviour: ‘Oh good girl, Grandma! Good girl!’

10. On The Baby, what her problem is
The Baby is sitting on the sofa, minding her own business. The Toddler is not impressed with her attitude: ‘The Baby, what’s your problem? Why are you doing nothing?’

Other posts in the ‘Ten Funniest Things The Toddler Said Last Week’ feature
Week 2: I’ll Tell You What, Mummy
Week 5: Don’t Do It
Week 7: Calm Down
Week 9: That’s Not Fair
Week 10: Silly Me
Week 11: Right, What’s The Problem

31st August 2015

The Toddler’s Job

The Toddler knows a lot about computers. Silly Mummy and Silly Daddy do work on the computer. Not always of their own free will, in fact: ‘Mummy, you sit down do work now! Do work on computer!’ The Toddler has furthered her computer knowledge with a little bit of research to confirm how much fun it is to work on computers: ‘Daddy, you like computers? You like computers, Daddy?’

Armed with all of this information, The Toddler has decided she will also take up working on the computer. The exact nature of The Toddler’s work is at present unclear. Nonetheless, she sits down next to the Toot Toot Safari track. She looks at it closely: ‘Computer not working again.’ No, well, it’s a Toot Toot Safari track. (Also, do note the ‘again’: apparently this is not the first time the Toot Toot Safari track has failed to be a computer.) The Toddler is unhappy: ‘Not playing. Need to show The Baby my work.’ Don’t you hate it when your computer turns into a Toot Toot Safari track before you managed to save your work to show to The Baby? Silly Mummy suggests that The Toddler turns the Toot Toot Safari off and back on again. Silly Mummy thinks she’s funny. The Toddler does not agree.

Though the specifics of The Toddler’s job remain unknown, she is evidently a high powered toddler executive and, as such, cannot be expected to go to bed. At bedtime, entirely ignoring tiny, insignificant details such as the fact that she is nowhere near the computer (and is actually sitting on the sofa playing with a tea set), The Toddler declares: ‘Me do more works. Me go on computer just a little bit longer, do more work. Okay?’ Clearly, The Toddler is a workaholic, but at what?

The Toddler has put a plastic farmhouse in the hallway. She returns for The Baby: ‘The Baby, come and play on my computer. Come here, The Baby. To my work.’ The Baby is not showing signs of willingness to accompany The Toddler to her computer/farmhouse. The Toddler offers encouragement: ‘Come to my work. Want to hold hands, The Baby? Hold hands, The Baby. Is good.’ Well, that answers the question about the nature of her work, at least. She’s Borat.

28th August 2015

Name the Children: Your Chance to Get Involved!

It has come to my attention (through keen powers of observing that The Baby had a birthday), that The Baby is no longer really a baby. As such, renaming of The Toddler and The Baby would appear to be due.

I have decided to open up the options I have been considering for public discussion/voting. *

(*I reserve the right to entirely ignore the publicly favoured option, if it is the one I do not want to use.)

Without further ado, I give you the shortlist of new names for my now pair of toddlers (oh, yes, I am fully committed to overplaying the excitement level of this post – prepare to be underwhelmed and totally disinterested).

1. The Toddler and The Artist Formerly Known as The Baby
Not really. Just kidding.

2. Toddler the First and Toddler the Second
I like the Lemony Snicketness of this, but wonder if it would fail to be a significant enough distinction, and thus be confusing.

3. The Littlun and The Bigun
A Lord of the Flies reference, so there would be a link to a favourite post of mine. (I know, right, how clever. Perhaps Silly Mummy should also be renamed? Clever Mummy. No? No. It wasn’t even my idea. Thanks, Dad!)

4. Toddler the Elder and Toddler the Younger (to be shortened to The Elder and The Younger)
As in the Pitts (William, not Brad and Angelina). A highbrow political reference. We are very highbrow around here (what is that laughing, stop that right now).

5. The Toddler and The Baby
For those who just don’t like change.

Which do you prefer? Or do you have suggestions of your own? (Yes, there is a small risk of this leading to further votes to deal with additional suggestions, and the eventual decision to just call them Toddler One and Toddler Two taken on the eve of The Artist Formerly Known as The Baby’s first day in secondary school…)

25th August 2015

Undone, Everyone: The Ten Funniest Things The Toddler Said Last Week

It’s Ten Funniest Things time again, and the newly appointed Sea Captain Mummy presents The Toddler:

1. On supercalifragilisticexpialidocious
The Toddler continues to be besotted with Mary Poppins. Feeling ambitious, she decides to try singing Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious: ‘Super…sup…suer…supra…supercagla…Mummy, I can’t say that word at all!’ Don’t worry, The Toddler, quite understandable. It’s a very difficult word. Silly Mummy would go so far as to say the sound of it is something quite atrocious.

2. On furniture, not a climbing frame
The Baby has been behaving in a reckless – and frankly very childish -manner, clambering all over the furniture. The Toddler is not standing for it: ‘It’s not a climbing frame, The Baby. I’ve told you not to climb it. Please don’t climb, The Baby.’

3. On The Baby, brainwashing of
The Toddler is attempting to brainwash The Baby. The Toddler wants to watch Peppa Pig, but has met Silly Mummy based resistance. She needs back up, and she knows just the baby to ask: ‘The Baby, do you not want to watch Peppa Pig? Say it. The Baby, you say Peppa Pig. The Baby, you say it. The Baby likes say Peppa Pig. Look at me, The Baby. Say it.’ The Baby remains silent on the subject, but does pick up The Toddler’s Peppa Pig balloon. The Toddler will take that as a win: ‘That’s right, The Baby! Peppa Pig! That’s right, The Baby – Peppa pig on there!’

4. On Silly Daddy, incrimination of
In the latest episode of ‘The Toddler’s Guide to Proper Decorum at the Doctors’ Surgery’ The Toddler has been demonstrating how to alleviate boredom by incriminating Silly Daddy. The Baby is having her vaccinations. The Toddler apparently suddenly remembers her last trip to the doctor, when Silly Daddy took her to have a skin condition on her neck checked out. The Toddler decides to inform the nurse about this trip. Sort of. She announces, ‘I hurt my neck!’ Silly Mummy realises what The Toddler is thinking about, but then Silly Mummy is trained in the art of toddler interpretation. The nurse looks concerned and replies, ‘Oh dear, have you? What’s wrong with it?’
The Toddler expands on her original statement: ‘I hurt my neck!’
The nurse says, ‘How did that happen?’
The Toddler, presumably instead answering the question of how she happened to get to the doctors’ surgery, announces: ‘Daddy! Daddy did it! Got a sticker!’ Oh dear. The Toddler got a sticker. Silly Daddy did not receive a sticker for hurting The Toddler’s neck. Which he also did not do. Can we start again?

5. On praise
The Toddler has developed a rather unusual method of delivering praise. She does not say ‘well done’. No. She says ‘undone’. ‘Undone, everyone!’ Give it a go next time you want to praise your colleagues in a work meeting: ‘Undone, everyone, undone. No, really, very undone!’

6. On that being nice
Silly Mummy tells The Toddler we will read some books upstairs. The Toddler nods: ‘That will be nice, won’t it?’ It has since become a favourite phrase. It is sometimes genuinely hard to tell if The Toddler is being very polite or quite sarcastic.

7. On Tommy Cooper, just like that
This week The Toddler has mostly been Tommy Cooper: ‘Mummy, I’m sitting here with my blanket. Just like that.’ We also have the variation of ‘just like this’, mostly used for bossiness towards The Baby: ‘What did The Baby do?’
‘She just fell over and now she’s a bit sad.’
‘Don’t do that, The Baby. Do like me. Just like this.’

8. On Sea Captain Mummy
While The Toddler has been Tommy Cooper, Silly Mummy has been ‘Sea Captain Mummy’. On one occasion, Silly Mummy misbehaved and was ‘naughty Sea Captain Mummy’.

9. On super lunch
It is 9:30 am. What is The Toddler doing? ‘I’m making super lunch.’ Out of coasters, no less. The Toddler snatches them away: they are not quite ready yet. ‘I need to put it in the fridge. Need to waiting for it to cool down first, please.’ Obviously Silly Mummy looks like the sort of person who would eat the coasters before they are ready.

10. On chocolate spread
The Toddler has been given chocolate spread on toast to try by Silly Daddy, who asks her, ‘Do you like it?’
The Toddler considers, ‘Yes…it’s a bit dirty.’

Other posts in the ‘Ten Funniest Things The Toddler Said Last Week’ feature
Week 1: Come On, Guys
Week 2: I’ll Tell You What, Mummy
Week 3: Think So, Mummy
Week 4: Your Emus
Week 5: Don’t Do It
Week 6: Get On It
Week 7: Calm Down
Week 8: Perfick
Week 9: That’s Not Fair
Week 10: Silly Me
Week 11: Right, What’s The Problem

24th August 2015

The Baby’s Five Most Important Words and Phrases (and How to Use Them)

The Baby has been chatty of late. She has identified the key words and phrases of the English language, and has been using them with gusto. Now, many of you may be surprised to learn what the most significant words and phrases in the English language, as set out below, actually are (particularly as one of them would appear to be French). Please do not be embarrassed: few are able to attain the lofty heights of The Baby’s grasp on linguistics. The correct frequency and proper usage for the word ‘duck’, for example, is understood by woefully few people. In an effort to re-educate, therefore, here are the words you need to know, and how you should be using them.

1. Cat
The Baby’s unrequited love affair with the cat continues. ‘Cat’ was probably her first clear word, after the usual ‘mama’ and ‘dada’. The Baby likes to make sure everyone is aware of the cat’s location at all times. She will jab her finger insistently in the cat’s direction and yell, ‘Cat! Cat!’ Should The Baby’s cat location services ever be specifically called upon with an actual query about where the cat is, The Baby is beside herself with glee: ‘Cat! Cat!’ The cat tries her best to be inconspicuous. Sorry, cat, like a tiny Liam Neeson: The Baby will look for you, she will find you, and she will point at you.

2. The Toddler
Of course, The Baby isn’t actually saying ‘The Toddler’. That would be weird. But she has started to say The Toddler’s real name. She first did this on an outing to the common, whilst The Toddler was running around and hiding behind trees. The Baby pointed at her: ‘The Toddler! The Toddler!’ It had come to The Baby’s attention that, like the cat, The Toddler was trying to hide. As with the cat, The Baby wasn’t having any of it. Never attempt to go incognito around The Baby. She will identify you. Loudly and repeatedly.

The Baby also likes to use her new word to request that The Toddler partake in her favourite game: peekaboo. She shouts, ‘The Toddler!’ The Toddler looks up. The Baby covers her eyes and giggles. The Baby repeats the process. Just a few times. The Toddler obligingly plays peekaboo. She was personally requested, after all.

3. Duck and quack
Presumably these words came from Sarah and Duck (the recent addition of ‘sayer duck’ to The Baby’s repertoire would seem to support this). Ducks occur to The Baby at random times, following which she will spend a pleasant fifteen or so minutes happily hollering, ‘Duck! Duck! Duck! Quack! Duck! Duck!’ As The Toddler has recently discovered the cupboard where the juggling balls are kept, and has taken to using them as missiles, The Baby’s love of chatting about ducks doubles as good safety advice.

4. Frere Jacques
The Toddler has been singing Frere Jacques a lot lately. Being a good, doting little sister, The Baby has therefore decided this is her favourite song. She bursts into ‘rehreh jacka’ at regular intervals, and is delighted when people join in. If people don’t join in, The baby offers light encouragement. Which is to say she relentlessly screeches, ‘Rehreh jacka! Rehreh jacka!’

5. Catch
When throwing and catching are taking place, The Baby likes to be involved. She likes to ensure that it is clear that she is involved by shouting ‘catch’ whenever anyone else says ‘catch’. It should be noted that, for all the shouting of ‘catch’, very little catching actually occurs. Though Baby can claim a better catching record than The Toddler – she has occasionally caught balls with her face, at least. The Baby’s reaction to being hit in the face with a ball? ‘Catch!’