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That’s Not MY Mommy!

Nothing like a forthright toddler to make you feel good about yourself. While doing the cleaning (which currently happens about once a month these days) I stumbled on some old photos, including one of me and the husband on our wedding day. Now, I’ve never been much of a looker but this photo was from the glory days when I actually used to brush my hair, had time to put on make up and didn’t have snot dried on to my clothes on a daily basis.

“Ah, look,” I said to the Toddler. “It’s mommy and daddy on their wedding day.”

She took the picture and studied it very intently. She looked at me skeptically, her little face crumpled in confusion. She looked at the picture again. And then looked at me again.

“Don’t be silly Mommy,” she said, as if I was the biggest idiot she had ever met. “That’s not MY mommy.”

It got me thinking (excuse the horrendous drawing skills!)…….

That’s not my Mommy………

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her hair has been brushed.

And there’s no snot crusted into the ends of it. And there’s no weird bald patches on either side of her head.

That’s not my Mommy……….

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….she’s enjoying a hot meal.

In peace. Without any little hands grabbing her food, or flinging it at her head. Or anybody yelling that they absolutely will not never, ever eat anything but peanut butter sandwiches. And she’s not scrabbling around to find her phone to put on an episode of Peppa Pig just to get two minutes peace to wolf down her scran.

That’s not my Mommy…….

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……she’s doing a poo in peace.

Without anyone pointing and yelling “what you doing Mommy?” Or banging the door crying “Mommy, where are you I can’t see you?” or no little hands poking under the door like something from The Shining.

THAT’S MY MOMMY…….

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