The Destroyer of Worlds

Dear Son #3,  

Mommy and Daddy are a bit geeky and enjoy dipping into the odd SciFi show occasionally. One of our favorites, “Stargate SG1”, has a character known as Linea The Destroyer of Worlds. She was an incredibly sweet, beautiful and charismatic character with a very dark side. Now, I’m not saying that you would create a deadly pathogen that would kill off numerous planets like she did, but you do seem to leave a slightly destructive wake in your path and so we’ve both decided that The Destroyer of Worlds is a title you can easily live up to. 

You are two-years-old tomorrow, something that I really can’t believe but I checked your birth certificate and it’s true. After they were finally able to yank your incredibly large head out of me two years ago, I really felt that I had mothering down to a science. I had Pieter – who could prepare me basically for any type of evil – and I had William – who could help soften all of my hard and prickly edges. But nothing could prepare me for Alexander – my Baby A.  

You were actually a really good baby. I think. I can’t say I remember that much due to the fact I was also trying to keep alive a two-year-old and a 3 ½-year-old. But I don’t think I can complain. You actually seemed more terrified for the first few months of your life, not that I can blame you. Then you hit around the 6-month-old mark and decided that from then on, I would remember. And I did.  

While pinning you with such a title as The Destroyer of Worlds may be a little on the dramatic side, you have proven to me that it isn’t far from the truth. In fact, I’ve narrowed it down to what I believe are the “7 D’s” of a good Destroyer of Worlds: Destructive, Dramatic, Dirty, Daring, Difficult, Deceiving, and Downright Hilarious. Let’s DIVE in, shall we? 


The main goal and purpose of The Destroyer of Worlds is destruction. This should’ve been your middle name really. Once you were old enough to start moving around, I came to the sad realization that there was no baby-proofing on earth that could save me. And there still isn’t. So, I entered this never-ending battle with you, trying to remember to shut doors, turn over stools, put things up high and lock cupboards. But clearly the idea of a challenge was exciting for you because you quickly learned how to climb, move chairs, turn over stools, open doors and break child-locks. From there the destruction would commence: the fridge door would be stripped from its photos, the cupboards and pantry would be emptied, every single box that had anything in it would be upturned and the fish was never safe. Every day you would go to bed to recharge for the next day and leave a path of absolute and utter destruction. This is still true to this day. 


You can’t be The Destroyer of Worlds without a little drama because that’s no fun. Many people have said to me after having three boys that at least I wouldn’t have to deal with the drama of girls. But I do have to deal with the drama of boys. And there’s drama. And it most certainly has escalated since your arrival. Not only do you have the uncanny ability to create drama from thin air, but to also bring the other two in it with you. If you don’t want a nap, a bath or a blue cup, you not only let me know, but the neighbours three blocks away too. If you want that box of gummy bears, the only way to stop you is to glue you to the floor, which I’m not allowed to do. Don’t get me started if I turn off the TV while Paw Patrol is on: seriously, I duck for cover. If you want to ambush a brother’s Lego creation or trap a brother in a laundry basket, you can always find a willing accomplice. So. Much. Drama.   


The Destroyer of Worlds is a messy job, but someone’s gotta do it. So, getting down and dirty is just a given in this position. Now, I have three boys; I know what dirty is. But I must say that sometimes I am impressed with exactly how dirty you can get in such a short span of time. If there’s dirt or mess to be found, you are on it like Sherlock Holmes. My water consumption has gone up so astronomically in the last two years that Daddy is going to start to wonder if I have opened up my own water park during the day. Paint, puddles, ink pads, markers, mud, food, sand, and bodily fluids are some of your favourites but you have the talent to get dirty doing pretty well anything. And I’m simply honored to have the delightful job of cleaning you up each and every time.  


If you want to be The Destroyer of Worlds, you need to be daring, period. Sometimes I just have to shut my eyes and walk away because I know I am powerless to stop you but I just can’t watch. For a lot of moms, the pinnacle moment when they transform from Sweet-Little-Baby-Mom to Everyday’s-An-Episode-of-Jackass-Mom is when their baby starts walking. But for me, as soon as you were able to move your body from one spot to another, I knew I was in trouble. You were climbing places way too high, hanging from things way too precariously, and crawling in way too small spaces before you could even walk. While I’d love to give you the benefit of the doubt here and just claim it’s because you want to keep up with your older brothers; when you start doing things that THEY don’t want to do, I know you’re just plain crazy.  


Have you ever heard of an easy-going and carefree Destroyer of Worlds? I haven’t, and I’ve seen a fair bit of SciFi. So, you hit this trait bang on. There are routine things that happen in your daily life that would be quicker, easier and more efficient if you just cooperated and didn’t turn everything into an episode of “Gator Boys”. Such things include but are not limited to: diaper change time, getting into the stroller time, nap time, getting into the high chair time, eating food time (for both of us), getting into the car seat time, bath time, hair brush time, getting dressed time, getting undressed time, putting on winter clothes time (impossible) and nail cutting time. I can guarantee you that we could do these tasks in half the time it currently takes us if we just worked as a team. There’s no “I” in team but there is in “Difficult”.  


One of the most important and crucial traits of The Destroyer of Worlds is to be deceiving. And in your case, it comes pretty easily. Cuteness is your tool of evil and you’re not afraid to break out that bad boy anywhere, anytime and make Mommy look pretty crazy.  “Oh but he’s so cute” or “No, I don’t believe that, I mean look at that face!” or “What a perfect little boy he is” are just some of things I hear regularly as you sit there smiling oh-so-sweetly. I sometimes even find myself doubting it when you’re in the rare mood for a snuggle or have injured yourself after an acrobatic stunt gone wrong. You may have won the battle son…and you may win the war, because you’re pretty cute and I’m pretty tired.  

Downright Hilarious 

Hilarity is the final, yet deadliest trait, of The Destroyer of Worlds. Because who can fear/discipline/escape from one who is so freaking funny? Whether you mean to be or not, you have the ability to make me roar with laughter at such random moments. You’re the biggest flirt known to man and rule over those brothers of yours like you’re some kind of god. Your favourite words are “Paw Patrol”, “Snacks” and “No” and your dance moves are off the freaking charts. I can’t even begin to question your wardrobe choices because I know I’ll never win that one (especially when it comes to those shiny black pointed-toed dress shoes that apparently go with everything). You are simply, unstoppable my friend, I commend you. 

So, there you have it my little Baby A, you’re getting closer in your quest for world domination and make us all shake in fear for what the future holds for us. One thing that I don’t think you’ll ever be able to do though is destroy my world, since you’re such a ridiculously important part of it.  

Never stop being you. Even if it’s slightly terrifying for all of us.  

Happy Birthday tomorrow.  

Love Mommy,  


Love my blogs? I do too! Please share the love ~ subscribe, like, share ~
Don’t love my blogs? Well, maybe you shouldn’t read them anymore, just a thought.

Looking for more laughter and some useful(ish) content? Sign up for my newsletter “Make it a 9”.


2 thoughts on “The Destroyer of Worlds”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s