Inspired once again by Brit in Bosnia’s and 3 Bedroom Bungalow’s regular Dear So and So strand, here’s a second version (here’s the first) dedicated to some very little So-and-Sos; my three sons.

Dear Biggest So-and-So,

Ok, so you’re hating learning your ‘d’s and ‘b’s, seem overly fond of wrestling your friends to the floor during playtime, and refuse pointblank to eat anything yellow. (And yes, I am remembering that ‘lollipops don’t count’.) But you shared a party bag with medium so-and-so this week, without even being asked. You brought a very pongy nappy, created by tiny so-and-so, downstairs because mummy’s hands were full. And you managed to get changed by yourself every morning. My kind and generous boy, perhaps all the wrestling is just a way of showing you care after all?

Yours in hope,

Mummy

Dear Medium So-and-So,

Some of your habits aren’t particularly endearing, and there’s a limit to the amount of snot any mother will willingly allow to have wiped on to her sleeve. This week, though, you’ve managed to appear on my lap from nowhere and plant a kiss somewhere on my face every single day. I feel like the mother station with the small spaceship coming in to dock. Come by for a pitstop anytime you like, my darling.

Love mummy.

Dear Tiny So-and-So,

It’s not possible to put ten pieces of carrot in your mouth without choking, vomiting, or both. Yet you still persist. I’ve decided to admire your fortitude, because this determined streak often manifests in more positive ways. You’re only one-and-a-half years old, but yesterday you managed to take off all your clothes (albeit with a bit of help with poppers and buttons) before bathtime. You never need any help eating at mealtimes. And few things are so high they put you off trying to climb them. Which, admittedly, is worrying, but I do admire your desire to get to the top. Clever you, my tiny maelstrom.

 Love mummy