Poems for children
My 16 month old just asked for the potty, hooray!
But wanted to take her lego, okay…
Then she kept putting the lego in
And pee’d on it, how do I begin?
I’m glad you’ve asked and it wasn’t a pooh
But weeing and poohing on things is not what we do.
Mama Grace (washed and retrieved)
Together we sing:
Bye bye pooh, thanks for coming through,
It’s time to flush you down the loo,
Enjoy your journey toodaloo…
Two weeks later:
Now you’re addicted to the flush,
Waving to yours isn’t enough.
So now I have to save mine too
And watch you waving off my pooh.
Mama Grace
Yep! We’re in this together.
Mummy, mummy, look! Why am I wet?
Because you’re still learning to squat on the toilet.
But when do I squat? Mummy I don’t always know.
Your bottom belly says when it’s time to go.
How’s it tell me? What does bottom belly say?
It gives a feeling you’ll recognize one day.
I have to feel it? So it doesn’t speak?
No. If only; potty training would take one week.
So I feel something and then I must go?
It’s trial and error at first, just let me know.
Bottom belly, bottom belly. Speak to me please.
Then be ready to control it, with a tight squeeze.
Mummy what will it be, a pooh or a wee?
There’s a different feeling for each, so you’ll tell me.
Mama Grace
There you are randomly pecking away.
It’s my Magpie Child, sorting her prey.
Bottle top, wrapper, something out of place,
Nothing’s unimportant, junk’s to your taste.
Spotting the out of ordinary.
Tasting it, eugh, is that necessary?
Try and really think about what you do,
Are you eating all sorts of animal pooh?
Watching you look at the bits that you find,
It’s see-through joy, it’s a shame we’ve become blind.
All your finds you clearly treat like pure gold.
If I were your toys, I think I would be sold.
Seeing all this pleasure your gold can give,
I’ll save some things from the bin, let them live.
You do bring life to everything you touch,
It’s one of the reasons we love you so much.
Mama Grace
Look in your mouth and each tooth is a jewel,
White precious stones that crush food to refuel.
Brush them and polish them, treat them with care
And be the brightest smile millionaire.
Mama Grace
I’m forever picking bogies out of your nose,
I don’t even know how you would make all of those.
So give me a break, let me get the green crust out.
It’s harder when you wave your arms and head about.
I’m only getting them to make room for more,
Believe me, I’d rather they just fall to the floor.
Just one of many gross things to do till you’re able,
It would be nice if you could keep your head stable.
Mama Grace
We wash our hands after we’ve been to the loo,
Else we’d get sick with a runny number two.
Our stomach would painfully churn with our food,
Be consumed with noises and smells that our crude.
If we take time now to wash the dirt away,
We can save the loo germs from ruining our play.
Mama Grace
It’s best not to touch the bin of wee-pooh;
It’s not a plaything, it’s a baby loo.
You have plenty of actual toys to hand.
Why you would want to, I don’t understand.
It’s full of nappies that were on your bum.
After playing with those, you would be glum.
Playing with actual toys, that would be best.
Look at the toys you have. Wow! You’re blessed.
Mama Grace
You my dear need a manicure.
Look at that face, it must be sore.
Can you see what your nails have done?
Look after your face, you’ve only one.
We’ll cut and file them, make them neat.
Kiss each finger, a little treat.
Mama Grace
Try not to put your hand in your own pooh,
It means an intensive clean if you do.
I mean have you seen this smelly brown stuff?
Even the pong for animals is enough.
A dog doesn’t put his paw in his pooh,
He’d then scratch his fur and smell of the loo.
Who would come near you if you did the same?
You couldn’t play and that would be a shame.
The lion would never use his claw,
If he put that in his mouth, he wouldn’t roar.
Why that smelly brown stuff would make him sick.
The king of the jungle isn’t thick.
Even the timid mouse won’t touch his pooh,
If he does, when he eats, what will he do?
Eek, how would he put his paw in his food?
He’d go hungry and be in a bad mood.
The bunny rabbit won’t hop into it,
He knows he would then sit and smell of it.
Wherever he sits it would smell the same,
Moving pooh around is not a good aim.
Mama Grace
