Permission

Dear You,

I think we should have some serious words.

I know you've been having a hard time recently. Or rather, Brain has been giving you a hard time. If it is any consolation, it isn't your fault about Brain. It's nothing you've done or not done that makes her a bit unstable; it's nothing your parents did or something that happened, it's just that that is how you humans are made. Sorry. It's an evolutionary thing. Those cave-ancestors have a lot to answer for, they set a pattern of primitive reactions designed to protect and save you. Only things have become far less clear cut since then. That's where I came in, to reason and rationalise, to plan and remember. Brain got a bit boisterous and took over a bit. The default alarm went off. But I'm back now and I'm just going to do some spring cleaning if you don't mind.

*does some dusting*

Splosh

Dear Wriggles,

I am very proud of you that you are desperately trying to crawl. However. The bath is neither the time nor place for it.

Do you know how slippy a wet baby is?

Very slippy is the answer.

I am also equally proud of your new skill of hauling yourself onto your knees to reach for something, or should I say, just about everything in your sight and everything I thought I had hidden out of your sight (foiled again).

However, like crawling, in a bath is not really the correct place to perfect this.

I am so glad that going to hydrotherapy has given you the confidence in water and that your inquisitive mind is brimming with possibilities, but I assure you that dry land is equally exciting.

I don't know who is the wettest, but I do know who was in the bath. And it wasn't me.

I love that you are such a brave girl when it comes to getting bumps and bruises that you just don't care and will pick yourself up time and time again. It is just a shame that you are quite keen on throwing yourself backwards and onto the side of the bath and trying to climb out of the bath, giving you what I'm pretty sure is the beginnings of a large bruise on your cheek.

What happened to my little baby?

In short, errm, could you please be slightly less of a Wrigglebottom at bathtime?

Lots of love,

One Soggy Mummy xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx