It’s been a few years since you stepped into this new motherhood gig. And I know it’s been some time since your position has been reviewed.
Heaven knows, it’d be nice if I could manage to bump up your pay. But since I can’t manage any of those things… I put together a little list to say thank you.
Thank you for getting up in the middle of the night to fetch me water/ tissues/ toys/ cuddles and a dose of Nurofen, which inevitably makes me vomit.
Thank you for washing my sheets at 2am, post the aforementioned vomit.
Thank you for wiping my bottom after I was too busy to run to the toilet.
Thank you for cooking toasted cheese sandwiches at 6.30pm because I don’t like the gourmet meal you’ve tried to swindle into my belly.
Thank you for waiting while I line up my toys in a cryptic order that only makes sense to me.
Thank you for spending an inordinate amount of time wondering if I have OCD.
Thank you for asking about my day.
Thank you for singing to me even though you’re not very good.
Thank you for letting me wear goggles in the bath.
Thank you for lugging around my snacks and a spare pair of undies.
Thank you for steering me away from the scary dog at the park that you saw 90 seconds before I did.
Thank you for reading the books I want to read. Even if it’s the same book. Every. Single. Night.
Thank you for giving me the last ice block when I know you’d quite like it.
Thank you for worrying about me. Even while I’m having a marvelous time at pre-school.
Thank you for putting on my suncream – and buying me a hat – so I don’t get sunburnt.
Thank you for wiping my bottom again.
Thank you for cutting up my sandwich just the way I like it. And thank you for making me a new one when I decide I don’t like it that way anymore.