Things No-one Tells You: The Toddler Edition

So, the Internet is now rife with posts of "things no-one tells you about having a baby! including just how many people you invite to stare into your foofoo, how your boobs turn into full on rocks and how sometimes you just feel like you're going to smell like old breast milk for the rest of your life.

Now I know all this, it's all old hat. And I have no secrets any more, I will tell you in detail about leaking boobs and shotgun poo and all sorts. Mate, you want to know what it's like to be stitched up in your downstairs cupboard, I'll draw you a diagram. Well, I probably won't as that is a bit gross. But I'll make sure you're all fully clued up before you go pushing anything out of yourself.

BUT. There is legitimately something new to learn every day. Elliot's three in less than a month, and every day I have an "oh shit" moment when I realise something new.

• Preschool is serious business. I walked in today after Elliot having a week off to discover they do Christmas cards. I  immediately went into panic mode, because what if he ends up like Ralph Wiggum and the only card he gets is a sympathy one from me? I'm surely panicking over nothing. Right? These kids can't even read, they won't know.
• Nothing is more interesting than a cafe. Elliot is a man with a plan. And that plan is normally for a cake. Whether it's Sainsbury's, ASDA or his personal favourite, Costa, he loves sitting down with a book (normally Mickey Mouse) and a big window to watch some buses going past whilst I get to drink a coffee. I know he probably needs more stimulation but dammit, if he's happy with a muffin and the 96 to Woolwich going past every ten minutes, then so am I! (I also really like the honeycomb lattes in Costa but that's by the by really I'd say!)
• They can still squeeze out a poo on the sly. We went for a walk the other day, and Elliot waited until I was trying to take a picture of a good sunset and quickly squeezed a turd out into his pull up. We're really giving the whole potty training lark a good punt still, but obviously sometimes you'd rather waddle through a housing estate than go on your perfectly good potty. That I lug around all day for your obvious amusement. *eye roll emoji*
• HAHA, you thought the screaming was bad when they were little? You are having a fucking laugh. Elliot screamed so loudly the other day the entire shop turned to look at us. (We'd been to the toilet, and I'd had the audacity to wash his hands. His sleeves got wet. Cue absolute hysteria.) I had to peel his Christmas jumper off him and blow on it to get it dry to make the screaming stop. Because the hand dryer in the toilets made him shout LOUDER. And then, after all this, his arms were a bit damp from where the sleeves had got wet. Jesus, some people have it lucky compared to this.
• They're now big enough to hurt. This happened this evening, Elliot slapped me full on in the face with both hands and the evening took a quick turn from preparing for a bath to a complete shit storm. He even pissed himself he screamed so much. And if I'm honest, my cheeks stung so much my eyes watered. *eye roll emoji again*

a little pic of 2 years ago to reminisce his blossoming modelling career.

He's three soon, and it's a whole new world and I'm a little bit excited, a little bit dreading it. As he gets older, the baby literally melts out of his face. Timehop told me he's been wearing shoes for 2 years today. I mean..what the hell?! Don't in any way take this for me being broody though. Remember I had mastitis twice, I'm not walking back down that road lightly.