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Family Blog
Anyone with a 4 year old boy?

Anyone with a 4 year old boy?

4 year old boy
Four year olds, aren't they great? Well aside from the strops and the fact they've now mastered the answering back/ they will have the last word malarky, aren't they funny. They're at school, learning new things, hanging out with new people, their vocabulary is ever expanding and they can describe things so much better.  
My four year old likes to use the word poo a lot....What are you eating? Poo! Ooh smell the new soap, it smells like sweets...It smells like poo. Old McPoo head had a poo...Daddy's a poo head Mammy...hmm sometimes he's not wrong there.  One of my recent favourites was after my new, shorter haircut, I'm in the bathroom trying to coiffeur it into submission and the Small Man casually walks in, I'm just having a poo Mammy. Great! This kid poops like an auld lad, after a heavy night on Guinness. He's sitting there chatting, I ask him how my hair looks...crazy, but gorgeous...ooh I love him. PLOOPPP! Jeezus Small Man what was that? A sausage poo, he says leaning forward with a big grin. PLOP. OMG!! That was an egg shaped poo Mammy, now can you wipe my bum, I'm tired! Holy God! The smell!
My Small Man is getting really good at telling myself and his Daddy off too. Our flat is nice, but old so the walls are like paper. We have super hearing now from learning to listen to our tv at the lowest volume until The Boss goes to sleep. One particular night, we were having a cuppa, catching up on some program and I made a comment, ONE comment to hubbalump (that's my husband)....thump, thump, thump down the stairs, the sitting room door swung open. I'm trying to sleep Mammy but clearly you are making noise. And why is there tea on my chair, I sit on there. Tea belongs on the table. I am NOT your best friend. I am cross with you. The hubbalump was sitting behind him, like an annoying child sniggering and pointing at me, after being told off. I was a ball of pride, amusement and flabbergasted-ness (that's not a real word, but I needed it).
Another question he likes to ask, is where my willy woowoo is. He knows I have an "angina" but still enquires as to where my woowoo is. I tell him I don't have one, I have a vagina because I am a girl. (I was once told, that for more sinister reasons, your child should know the proper names for his/her genitals, and so he does...kinda) So is your woowoo inside Mammy? No child, I just don't need one. Ok then, is that why you wee sitting down? Yes baby, it's easier. So where are your minerals Mammy? (Nice one Daddy!) I don't need them either, cos I'm a girl sweetheart. Well why do I have them? Ah lads....well you'll need them one day to help make a baby. Oh and then I'll just pop one out of my bum like you? Well no, babies don't come....agh...never mind, listen you just help make the baby ok. Ok. Mammy where is my baby brother? Listen Small Man...I can hear Paw Patrol on tv.....
Whilst I'm on the subject of woowoos, we've also entered the world of.....hmm...I don't even know how to word this...jayzus....oh lord...erections. There! I said it! It's normal anyway. So I've put the Small Man to bed and a little later he shouts down that his woowoo is sore. I ran upstairs, thinking his eczema was itching him on his legs. There he was, looking very distraught, look Mammy it's sticking up. Oh the Lord Lamma...ok sweetheart, it's ok, it will go away. Do you need to wee? No, why is it sticking up? Oh for feck sake...emm well sometimes it just does that if you need to wee or if you were scratching or something. Were you scratching? No. Why is it not going away? (I can hear hubby in our room sniggering to he's still alive I don't know) Hmm, well Small Man sometimes it just likes to have a look around, it'll go away just lie down and relax. Look I know this wasn't the best answer but how much detail do you want to get into with a four year old about the workings of willies? Anyway this worked and he lay down, I tipped off downstairs after throwing the evils at hubby. Five minutes later...Maaammmy! Maaammy! It won't go dowwwwn. Agh..ffs...Daddy? Daddy? Get in there and sort this out, this is your territory now!
It's a joy to be the Mother of a boy!
Written by Donna Eldridge, mummy blogger and occasional writer at
Check out Donna's witty blog at

Donna tells us she's from the greatest footballing village of all time, Rhode in Co. Offaly. She moved to south London on holiday after her Leaving Cert, 15 yrs ago. She's married with a little boy. She's worked in various pubs, ran one and currently work for a bedroom furniture retail company.