I’ve commandeered Mummy Black’s laptop, she would be pissed if she knew. But she doesn’t so it’s ok. Unless you tell her, in which case I’ll cry and then pee poo on you…the runny kind.

See, parents think they know everything. They don’t. Not really. Cause I know everything. I know every trick under the sun to rile mummy and mama up until a force 100 hurricane blows through the whole house.

Bedtime.

Yep. Bedtime is the secret.

I have discovered that the insurmountable cot mountain, is in fact, NOT insurmountable at all. The total opposite, as it turns out.

It’s a doddle to climb out of. All one has to do is hook a foot, lean a belly and flip flop, mums your mama, I’m on the floor.

If it weren’t for the crafty thud I’d be home free and playing cars. Nonetheless, toddlers of the bloggisphere, here are my top 15 tips for bedtime.

1. Climb out of the cot at intermittent times. This ensures mummy has gone downstairs for the 28th time.
2. Listen carefully for mummies bottom touching the sofa. It’s essential for the timing to be right. As soon as she sits on the sofa (downstairs), climb out of bed. Again. Loudly.
3. Watch what your mum says. They only give two warnings. Then you get the silent treatment, at which point, go all guns blazing on the giggling. Silent treatment = a game.
4. Throw toys. LOTS of toys….at the walls. And maybe definitely at the window.
5. Empty all your clothes and scatter sporadically across the floor. Proceed to hide toys under the clothes so that mummy steps on things – warning – duck as this causes arms to fly.
6. Also listen to what she says – there are a lot of half words – I’m convinced they are naughty words – stock pile these for later combing and subsequent usage.
7. If your parents don’t drink much – make sure you pick a night to start cot climbing when they are out of comfort food.
8. Sing. Loudly. That annoying nursery rhyme works best.
9. The door is a musical instrument in the form of a bass drum. The neighbours especially like this one.
10. Jump up and down as hard as you can, I hear you can go through the roof. Duno what that means but it sounds cool.
11. Scream until you’re sick and then cry because you were sick. (note that second cry gets you hugged)
12. Repeat ‘Schtorreeey, schtory, storrrrrry’ 89 times.
13. Run in circles
14. Whimper
15. Whine in your best parent guilt tripping voice. Trust me, you can break them.

Warning – definitely try these at home. 

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The post Teaching Your Parents About Bedtime – Lessons from a Terror Tot appeared first on Sacha Black.

Like the TV advert, the wife and I decided to set up an email account for our newborn  son to open on his 18th birthday. We will spend the next 18 years sending letters, photos and videos to him in secret, so that his life with us is chronicled. I thought you may like to read my first entry.

My Dearest A,

You are currently my little sleeping beauty upstairs in your crib. I am hoping you are reading this on or around your 18th birthday, as we have now given you the password and account details for this account.

I want you to know, wherever you are, wherever we are, I am immensely proud of whoever you have become. I love you with all my heart, you are my world.

‘The Very first moment I beheld him, my heart was irrevocably gone.’ Jane Austen.

 

You’re 11 and a half weeks old, just shy of 3 months old. I look at you now and wonder how you came to be. It feels like you have been here my entire life, and yet, for just a moment, and already I love you with such immensity that it takes over my entire being.

I am still at home on maternity leave with you at the moment and will be for a few more weeks. I savour every moment of time I spend with you, because I will be at work soon and then every moment I spend away from you will be a moment wasted.

The best parts of my day are when you smile at me, or when I get to watch you learn something new. Your making lots of noises these days, and beginning to form a real laugh, and I can’t help but giggle every time you do; your learning to sit – although you scream in protest every time we practice, you much prefer standing up. You love your door bouncer and finally your starting to learn to roll over.

I am talking to my 18 year old son… I will be 44 by the time your 18. Oh my god, that seems like a life time away, I can’t imagine what I will be like at 44, or who I will be, let alone who you will be.

What do I hope for you? Firstly and most importantly I hope you are happy. I hope you have had a wealth of experiences, good, bad, naughty and ugly! I hope you are safe and well. I hope you have studied hard, and played harder, I hope you have loved and lost and loved again and I hope you have travelled.

Every parent wants their child to be a doctor, lawyer, pilot or some other well paid career. But I just hope that you have found something that will make you happy for the duration of your career, I don’t care if your a ballerina, a seamstress, a chef or a boxer. As long as you work hard you will be the best you can be, but enjoy whatever you choose to do in life, because life is too short to be unhappy…. but secretly I do hope you have chosen to go to university! I met your mumma at university and I am sure I speak for her too when I tell you how much fun we had at university, even during the all nighters trying to finish assignments.

I hope you enjoy the next 18 years of emails! It might take a day or two to get through!

Happy Birthday baby boy, I love you always and forever, mummy. xxx

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