As you know, I love you. I tell you approximately 650,789,456 times a day. I also enjoy kissing your munchy little face. At which you either wriggle away or lick me or yell "kiss on my MOUTH MUMMY" and try to give me a big enthusiastic snog.
As much as I whinge about it, I'm quite partial to being a mummy. Particularly, *your* mummy. You see, you're quite lovely and cute and also hilariously funny. So you know, that's all pretty good stuff to have around.
I might complain about the exhaustion - when you wake in the night for 2 hours and have a tantrum about no Mister Tumble and then try to sleep across my head. Or the tedium - when I have to read Dinosaurs Love Underpants at least 7 times before bed (sucker!). But also, you are the apple of my eye.
You give me a reason to get up in the morning, because no one does enthusiasm for a new day like a toddler. "Is it sunny?" when it's clearly pissing it down. "Is it dark?" when it's clearly 9am and yes, actually sunny. Your insistence on "staying in my jim-jams just little bit more mummy" means you're a boy after my own heart - nothing like lounge wear, telly and a big bowl of cereal.
You've also got an excellent bossy streak. I take pride in the fact that you've inherited this from me. Risking life and limb you insist that you "walk for a little bit mummy" as you flail away from me by the roadside whilst I have a minor coronary as cars whizz past.
Resolute, you tuck your hands into your blue bomber jacket and march along, asking me if "we go Tescos for special t-weat mummy?" *cue big blue eyes*. I am powerless to resist. So is the lady in the Tescos who has a soft spot for you and always asks me accusingly "where is he??" when I go in without you.
I'm also massively enjoying your strong nurturing streak. Much as you like to destroy stuff "Me do snipping Mummy?" (cue paper everywhere) you love your bunny-baby so much. Twee as it may be, you look so cute pushing your pink toy stroller, with bunny snuggled in it, to the shops with me. To those who have given you a funny look, *blows raspberry* do Daddies not push babies in buggies where you come from?
Bunny is very important to you, bunny likes to be wrapped in a blanket and is just like you - only napping in the buggy. You also love your Makka Pakka - who sits in the back seat of your Little Tikes car and gets chauffeured around. He is also partial to yoghurt...
You love music, with Bruno Mars being the only person who has, to my knowledge, gotten you to eat a mushroom (heavens above, an actual vegetable!) Your special Uptown Funk dance in which you have tried to copy the video is excellent. You also love the (inappropriate?) All About That Bass video "AGAIN MUMMY, bass, no t-weble". I love listening to music with you. You're much cooler than me - you love Hozier also!
Mostly though, it was very nice yesterday, on a rainy Monday afternoon, when Mummy was feeling poorly, when we lay on the sofa for a snuggle and listened to the songs I played you when you were a newborn, and you drifted off to sleep with your head on my chest. I know you remember the songs, I played them to you as a bump - and they settled you when you wouldn't feed when you were tiny. You woke a bit on me, and if I moved "No, cuggle mama" and you wound your little arms around me.
I love you baby, because you taught me to love myself. You taught me that I am fun to be around, that it doesn't matter what I wear or where we are, as long as we are together that's all that matters. So I'm counting my lucky stars that I have you as my little best buddy. Because it would be pretty crap for me and Daddy without you.
PS At risk of being considered the world's grumpiest mother, this post came about to reassure people that I don't just let Toddler45 go feral to Cbeebies whilst I eat bonbons, drink gin and post on the social medias. Also it's a follow up to this post.