Before and After: Christmas With a Toddler…

People say that you don’t know the ‘true meaning of Christmas’ until you have your own children… that having small children around makes it entirely magical…

Which I honestly 100% agree with. Right up to the point my infant son bum-wee-d across my bed on Boxing Day morning and rolled in it… but other than that I’m TOTALLY with you…

I’ve done a few ‘Toddler Christmases’ now… I would say I’m almost used to them. You soon learn to take the funny magical moments for what they are, and prepare yourself for the diarrhetic tantrums with an excess of gin, soft cheeses and your body weight in Toblerone.

So for anyone enjoying the festive period with a toddler… here’s my Christmas BEFORE and AFTER Toddlers, for you to enjoy (whilst doing some shots to)…

1: Opening Presents… BEFORE TODDLER

‘Hey. Shall we open our presents?’

*everyone opens presents*

Opening Presents… AFTER TODDLER

The toddler has somehow reached the conclusion that ALL gifts belong to them and hasn’t quite grasped the concept of ‘the nativity’ just yet… You try to distract them away from the tree with a chocolate coin… but it backfires as they fire the Baby Jesus into Granny’s face as a diversion tactic and begin rampantly sifting through the present pile and find the only fragile gift… Before you can quite reach them (via a dramatic bucks-fizz-fuelled lunge), they’ve fashioned it into a hat with a series of punches and face-butts. Which is particularly ironic as it’s the first time they’ve ever actually voluntarily worn any kind of hat so it’s not a total loss…

They spend the next four hours playing with a box, a terrified cat, and creating Rambo-style-face-markings from the melted chocolate coins they’ve been warming in their nappy since 9am this morning.

2: Eating Christmas Dinner… BEFORE TODDLER

‘Hey. Shall we eat now?’
‘Yes. That sounds lovely.’

*Everyone sits down and eats*

Eating Christmas Dinner… AFTER TODDLER

Once you’ve worked out the precise dinner timing which will ensure the toddler eats, whilst not too tired, but tired enough to nap after, with enough appetite for subsequent bribes, while Venus is in Saturn, and the moo-cow jumps over MOTHER-CHUFFING-MOON while the blue dish runs away with the red spoon because they said YELLOW. YELLOW BOWL. YELLOW SPOON. IT’S NOT THAT HARD – YELLOW BOWL AND SPOON YOU USELESS FESTIVE WHORE. Also – while we’re on it… turkey yucky. Me want yoghurt.

(Feel free to go somewhere and cry at this point whilst googling when nursery re-opens in the new year.)

3: Festive Seating Plan… BEFORE TODDLER

‘Hey. Shall we just sit down wherever?’
‘Yes. Why wouldn’t we…?!’

*everyone sits down wherever and laughs like naive fools with no idea what TODDLER-RELATED-FESTIVE-SEATING-PLAN-HELL the Universe has in store for them*

Festive Seating Plan… AFTER TODDLER

I wish for my high chair to be placed next to Granny. Now change the angle so I have the perfect sight line to Granddad, my Twirlywoos Boat, and the correct trajectory for hurling food at Mummy if I think she’s attempting to relax or engage in adult conversation at any point…

Now. Remove Daddy. He doesn’t get to eat.

Granddad needs to feed me. Whilst maintaining eye contact.

Mummy. No laughing. Let me stroke your face.

Also. I know longer wish to sit in my highchair. Or at the table at all. In fact. I know longer wish be part of this family. I wish to be a cat. And from now on you shall all refer to me as ‘Meowy-Mc-Meow-Face’ and feed me from your palms.

4: Festive Entertainment… BEFORE TODDLER

‘Hey. Let’s play a game?!’
‘Yes. Just not charades. Everyone hates fucking charades…’

*Everyone plays charades. Obviously. *

Festive Entertainment… AFTER TODDLER

So guys… I thought instead of anyone actually having fun today, you could take it in turns to rock me in my buggy while I refuse to have a nap, and then later you can all watch me punch the Buckaroo Donkey until that little shit submits to me like he should have done in the first place while Grandma weeps a little… 


Hey. Shall we just sit around in our pants watching crap telly and spooning cheese into our faces?!’


*breaks out the Camembert*


Meowy-Mc-Meow-Face no longer wishes to be here. Meowy-Mc-Meow-Face wishes to be at soft play.

Mother – fetch my YELLOW BOWL and make this happen.

Bye dickheads. See you next year.



Leave a Reply