Dear Ava,

Sometimes, mummies on the Internet write really lovely letters to their offspring. They are full of kind words, and whimsical reflections and will provide a beautiful history to look back on in the future.

This is not one of those letters.

Yes I do love you, very much. You are full of personality and gumption and a degree of craziness that obviously proves you came from my body.

You’re very cute. Obviously.
I mean look at that face.

You’re also very smart which bodes well for you, in the letter that I am about to write you. (Which, incidentally, you’re not quite smart enough to read, but I’ll paraphrase for you later.)

There is a very important point that I think you may have missed just lately. It’s my fault really; I haven’t made my point very clear in the past, but all that is about to change.

Are you listening?

Ok, here we go:

I’m the mum.
Not you.
Which means I am the boss.
Not you.

It would do you well, to remember this.

What does this mean I hear you ask? Well it’s all very simple, but I’ll break it down nice and easy for you.

1. You do not get to yell at me. Ever. That is not ok and will not be tolerated.
You do not get to yell at your brother or your sisters either. Again, I have a new-to-be-enforced no tolerancy program.
The same program will be applied to biting, pushing, hitting and any other form of physical violence.

2. Shushing me is not ok. You’re two; you have to listen.
Talking back is not ok. The only answer that will be tolerated at this stage is ‘yes mum.’ And I expect it said with a happy heart. I do not want it yelled at me or said so quietly that when I doubt it was ever uttered, I am met with a back lash of ‘I already said YES MUM!!!’ That does not sit well.

3. Yoghurt is not a fruit. Sorry to disappoint you, but you can’t get away with that anymore.

4. You may be small and cute, but your powers of invisibility are lacking. Thinking that hiding from me when given an instruction will not get you out of doing it. Just saying.

5. Screaming does not get you anywhere. Even when it makes all the ladies at the shop look at mummy with snide condescension. You’re the youngest of four; I am impervious to those stares by now.

6. And yes whilst being the youngest has meant that in the past you have got away with blue murder, I’m pulling rank. For your own good, you need to be trained. I am removing myself from being wrapped around your little finger, and reinstating my leadership credentials.

And finally….

7. Ava you may be doubting my ability to keep to this course of action. I’ve been a little slack these last few months I know, and you’re ability to rival the stubbornness of all the mules ever, will see you in good stead to challenge my determination.
But just remember this: you think you may be stubborn, you think you may be determined, and you think that you can win, but, my dear, you got all those genes from me. I too was a stubborn tantrum throwing two year old once two, and from all accounts of the stories, you have nothing on me.
Nothing.
Plus I’ve got 27 more years of fine tuning these skills than you.
You have been warned

Do you ever look at your kids and realise that there needs to be a change?
Do you give them the pre-warning it’s happening?
And would anyone like a two year old for the day?