Motherhood: A performance review from your toddler.

Dear mum,

It’s been a few years since you stepped into this new motherhood gig. And I know it’s been some time since your position has been reviewed.

Heaven knows, it’d be nice if I could manage to bump up your pay. But since I can’t manage any of those things… I put together a little list to say thank you.

Thank you for getting up in the middle of the night to fetch me water/ tissues/ toys/ cuddles and a dose of Nurofen, which inevitably makes me vomit.

Thank you for washing my sheets at 2am, post the aforementioned vomit.

Thank you for wiping my bottom after I was too busy to run to the toilet.

Thank you for cooking toasted cheese sandwiches at 6.30pm because I don’t like the gourmet meal you’ve tried to swindle into my belly.

Thank you for waiting while I line up my toys in a cryptic order that only makes sense to me.

Thank you for spending an inordinate amount of time wondering if I have OCD.

Thank you for asking about my day.

Thank you for singing to me even though you’re not very good.

Thank you for letting me wear goggles in the bath.

Thank you for lugging around my snacks and a spare pair of undies.

Thank you for steering me away from the scary dog at the park that you saw 90 seconds before I did.

Thank you for reading the books I want to read. Even if it’s the same book. Every. Single. Night.

Thank you for giving me the last ice block when I know you’d quite like it.

Thank you for worrying about me. Even while I’m having a marvelous time at pre-school.

Thank you for putting on my suncream – and buying me a hat – so I don’t get sunburnt.

Thank you for wiping my bottom again.

Thank you for cutting up my sandwich just the way I like it. And thank you for making me a new one when I decide I don’t like it that way anymore.

Thank you for playing with me I know you’re totally not up for it.

Thank you for letting me yell ‘Wake Up Jeff’ whenever I see someone’s asleep.

Thank you for eating my crusts so there’s no waste.

Thank you for letting me stick my fingers into the holes of The Very Hungry Caterpillar book.

Thank you for wiping my nose.

Thank you for letting me wear the ugliest thing in my cupboard. Because, ironically, it’s my favourite.

Thank you for pointing out all emergency vehicles because you know I love them.

Thank you for taking me for a swim when you really don’t feel like being in your cossies in front of all our friends.

Thank you for letting me watch Mister Maker even though I believe you think the program would be much more bearable if he spoke in a normal voice.

Thank you for wiping my bottom again.

Thank you for flicking through photos of me on your phone after I’m asleep.

Thank you for accepting that I make you late.

Thank you for being patient.

Thank you for having crazy, pointless nightmares about me being in danger.

Thank you for teaching me the word ‘actually’ without actually meaning to. I love it.

Thank you for taking me to the park and pushing me on my favourite swing while all our friends were playing on the slippery-dip at the opposite end of the park.

Thank you for caring.

Thank you for not-caring.

Thank you for not judging me.

Thank you for trying your best.

Love,

Your Toddler.