A poem from your toddler

There’s a problem a brewing,

I know where it’s at.

It’s inside mum’s tummy,

Cos she’s getting fat.

I’m moved from my bedroom,

I’m kicked out my cot.

I sleep in a big bed,

That I don’t like a lot.

My car seat is bigger,

I walk all the time.

Mum’s growing a baby,

And somehow it’s mine?

I cling to her legs more,

Try to sleep in her bed.

If I don’t get what I want,

Then I scream instead.

I gather my toys up,

Follow her to the loo.

She says it’s a playmate,

But I’m sad and I’m blue.

We’re having a baby,

It doesn’t seem fun.

To be pushed out the way now,

And no longer…The one.

I wake up one morning,

And no one’s around.

So I creep down the stairs,

Hardly making a sound.

Grandmas in the kitchen,

With Toast and some tea.

And she cuts up the fingers,

All small just for me.

Mum went in the nighttime,

But not just to shop.

The baby was coming,

And out it did pop.

Later that day,

In the cold and the rain.

She brought home my sister,

Who was wrinkled and plain.

And she was so tiny,

Did nothing for me.

So I ate my fish fingers,

And drank grandmas tea.

And I feel much better,

Now mums far less fat.

My sister does nothing,

I’m still where it’s at!

And I’ve joined big school,

It feels okay.

Leaving them in the kitchen,

As I spend my day.

Although there’s a problem,

I know where it’s at.

It’s inside mum’s tummy,

Cos she’s getting fat.