18 months: the life of a toddler

Blender without lid

Hello Bear,

Today isn’t an official birthday so there will be no cake (also, I’m on a diet and cake is one of the many things you refuse to eat, so it would be a wasted bake-a-thon). But today marks 18 months since you came into the world, and we think that’s quite a special milestone.

A year ago we were starting out on the “fun” stage of solid food. You weren’t crawling, so if I left you in your Jumperoo or on your playmat while I nipped to the loo, I could guarantee you’d be there when I got back. You were still waking up at stupid-o-clock, and sleep was your nemesis (as was food). At the time I thought this was tiring. If only I’d known….

For the record, and so that – a year from now – I can marvel at how I even managed to keep up with the 18 month old you, here are some of your recent toddler adventures:

Your new buddies
Whenever we go out for a coffee, you make a new friend or 3. This is usually because you wave at random people, or stare at strangers until they wave back at you. But last week you ditched the regular M&S coffee shop brigade in favour of Malcolm the Mannequin. Malcolm, a stuffed child mannequin, was minding his own business in the children’s clothing department when you decided to go and pinch and ‘beep’ his nose. We will be forever grateful that Malcolm was not one of the coffee drinkers in the café.

Channelling your inner-cat
Nana and Grandad’s cat used to love cramming himself into a shoebox. The smaller the space, the better. One of your favourite pastimes is to drag a basket from the kitchen into the lounge and spend a good few minutes squeezing yourself into it, before sitting and watching cartoons from the ‘comfort’ of a 30x20cm basket. Cosy.

Sometimes you crawl and drag your head along the carpet like an animal curing an itch. We don’t know why you do this.


Your aspirations
We’ve all been there, watching TV and aspiring to be on the screen; “I’d like to have hair like Jennifer Aniston”, or “her who plays Gerard Butler’s girlfriend is one lucky lady”. You, Bear, you set your sights on a totally different level.

While Daddy and I were sneaking an extra 5 minutes of sleep one morning, you pottered about and *looked after* Daddy’s phone for him (NB: the phone does not live in your nappy bin, just so you know). I opened my eyes to find you standing next to my side of the bed, the end of the toilet paper in hand. Not much of a story, until you realise the other end of the roll was still in the bathroom, which is back round the bed, out our bedroom and across the landing. Set your sights higher, Bear, you can aspire for more than the Andrex puppy.

Your culinary skills
Your play kitchen has gone down a storm. By ‘storm’, I mean you’re playing in it a lot. Yes, in it. Like clockwork you open the cupboard door, throw the toy food and cutlery across the room, remove the shelf, climb in, knock the washing up bowl out of the way and poke your head up through the sink. About 10 seconds later you scream the house down until we come and rescue you. That is a lot of fun, apparently.


Some things remain the same – your mealtime rules remain a mystery to me, and how you’ll love a potato waffle one day then despise it the next I’ll never know. Your arch enemy is very much still the hoover, and I wait for the day that you stop checking under the stairs to make sure it’s not about to pounce (it’ll never pounce, I promise).

Happy 18 months you cheeky little monkey. No-one could ever say you don’t keep us on our toes, and when I’m pooped at the end of the day I know it’s because you’ve had fun.

We love you more than ever, but please leave the toilet roll alone.

Mummy & Daddy xx


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