Name: Piglet (not real name, but Mum keeps calling me that at the moment)
Age: 2 years 3 months
Likes: Babies, yoghurt, cream cheese, pasta, trampolines, fruit, brioche, rice.
Dislikes: Any other food than what is mentioned above.
Hobbies: pushing babies around, watching little baby bum, trampolining, using tissues and wet wipes to wipe my nose (sometimes before or after wiping my bum) and cleaning up after the babies.
I wake up early. My big brother has turned the big light on again, it was so bright and I wasn’t ready to wake up!
Mum came in and switched the night light music thing back on, “it’s too early guys, have a bit more sleep”.
She wants a bit more sleep she means, no such luck Mum.
After a bit more of a rest and a stretch, I call Mum, then my brother screams out her name.
Why is she sighing? She’s had plenty of sleep.
I hear the loo flush and her say “no rest for the wicked” your not wicked Mum, but you are taking your time.
Mum comes in and speaks to my brother first, this makes me so cross that I slap my hand on the side of the cot.
Ouch it hurts.
“Up, up” I scream and she comes and gives me a cuddle, oh that’s nice, no what is she doing, I don’t want to lay on the changing mat “cold, cold” I say and she lays a dressing gown on there first.
Ah that’s better.
“Poo” I tell her, I haven’t actually done a poo but she’ll start pretending to smell something horrible in the air and waving her hands around like a crazy person, that makes me laugh!
She changes my nappy and opens the cream pot “no” I say.
Decision one of the day, I can stop her from putting cream on, by jamming my legs shut.
She tells me I’m a little bit sore and would I like to have some cream, hell yeah I get ready to scoop a massive amount out but she’s clearly remembered the time she left the pot open and I smeared it all over my face.
I manage to get a dot of cream and whilst my attention is turned she’s put some cream on. She’s a crafty one.
She puts me in about 100 layers, I know I get cold but for goodness sake it takes ages and my brother is all ready to go downstairs.
I want to go downstairs, who needs trousers anyway, so I start kicking my legs in protest. “Come on babes” she says, “if we do this quick we can go and get breakfast”
Oh yeah breakfast, that’s right I’m flipping hungry, my tummy is rumbling.
I want food now!
I don’t need trousers to eat breakfast.
Oh she’s picked me up and is giving me another cuddle, ah feeling a bit more relaxed, oh she’s done it again my trousers are on!!
She puts me down and I go on a little wonder.
Granny’s door is shut but I’m sure she’s awake “Gah gah” I call, no answer so I better check.
I push the door open “hiiiyaaa” I yell.
Oh good she’s just waking up. Now where is Mum, I need breakfast.
Oh no I’ve forgotten the babies “baby” I say to mum, she’s carrying a load of washing.
“BABY” I’m getting cross why is she carrying washing instead of babies, she chucks the washing down the stairs and gets the babies.
The babies look comfy being carried, I want to be carried, “up” I say, she asks why don’t I bump on my bum down the stairs.
No way, she needs to carry me and the 8 babies, she’s done it before, why won’t she do it now? Can’t believe she wants to carry the babies and not me.
“Up” I scream and I stomp on the floor.
She tells me if I stomp then she won’t carry me, why is she trying to make me sad, the babies are being carried why can’t I.
I burst in to tears. She picks me up. I smile. Winning!!
We get downstairs and she puts the babies down. My brother is sat at the table waiting for breakfast. Mum gives him a cuddle.
Oi what about me, I’m starving, I cry and she asks if I want breakfast, of course I want breakfast you fool!
So we go to the kitchen and she tries to put me down so she can get the bowls, “up, up” and I start to cry.
She sighs, I don’t know why, clearly this is the reason Mum’s were given two hands.
We get the cereal and I stick my hand in each box to have a taste.
Yup that will do nicely. She gets milk, I remind her “poon” she gets the spoons and we go through and I sit down.
Something doesn’t feel quite right though, spoon – check, bowl – check, bib -what?!?!
“BIBBBBB” she’s forgotten it, I’ve just heard her turn on the kettle, she’s always switching that on!
Anyway, back to me. “BIBBB” oh there she is, what is she doing? She’s putting it on my brother, has she lost the plot?
She gathers herself and puts it on the right child, at last!!
Breakfast begins, after about 3 mouthfuls a bit falls in to my bib.
“Muuuumm” she’s switching on that bloody kettle again,”Mummmm”.
Then my big brother shrieks her name and in she comes. “We was calling you for ages” he says, you tell her bro.
I point to my bib “bin” I say, “yes your wearing a bib” she says.
“BIBBBB” I scream why doesn’t she understand that there is a lump of cereal stuck in there that needs to get out!!
“BIBBB” I scream again. Then big bro saves the day again “it’s because it’s dirty” he says.
“Oh for goodness sake, that’s what a bib is for” she says, I don’t know what she means by that but this cereal needs to get gone pronto, “issue” I say.
She gets a tissue and wipes the coco pop out of my bib.
She goes back to the kitchen and I hear the switch go on again.
I eat a couple more spoonfuls. Oh yes a yoghurt drink, I’d rather have that then the rest of this.
I pick my bowl and take it through to the kitchen “nuff” I say to Mum. “You need to eat some more” she says.
Clearly she didn’t understand me “nuff” I say again. “No babes you need to eat some more. Do you want a yoghurt drink?”
Finally, “yog, oh yeah” I say with delight.
“Well finish your breakfast and then you can have it” she say’s.
Aggghh she makes me so mad. I don’t want cereal I want a yoghurt drink. I shove my bowl towards her and stomp to the fridge “yog” I say and bang on the door.
“No poppet you need to come and have some more breakfast and then I’ll get you a yoghurt drink” she comes and picks me up and gives me a cuddle “you’ll be hungry if you don’t eat a bit more” I’m always hungry. “And if you eat your breakfast nicely, you can have some blueberries”.
Ooh blueberries; sweet, sweet blueberries.
I get down and go back to the table and eat the rest of my breakfast as I imagine moving blueberries from one bowl to another and then stopping to jam 4 or 5 in my mouth.
Good times are coming my way!