A Toddler’s Personal Statement

With my Masters applications suddenly in full swing and personal statement drafts here, there and everywhere, I started wondering (as you do) what it would be like if SB wrote a personal statement. I used to be one of The Student Room’s Personal Statement helpers (ahem, NERD ALERT) so fingers crossed, she’d get into any of the top Russell Group nurseries with this killer statement. (Are RG nurseries a thing? Please tell me they aren’t…).

MY PERSONAL STATEMENT by SB, aged nineteen months

It has been said that the smallest feet make the biggest footprints in our hearts. I, for one, have absolutely tiny feet, and I intend to make a huge footprint on the world.

I have wanted to be a toddler for as long as I can remember – indeed, since I entered this world nineteen months ago, it has been my dream to one day walk in the footsteps of such greats as Albert Einstein, Marie Curie and Mr Tumble. I feel I have made a good start – for I am a toddler, and they were all toddlers at some point too.

In terms of experience, I have nineteen months of experience of pooping, and have produced a variety in my time. I feel that this length of experience has considerably enhanced my skills to a point where soon, I will no longer insist on sticking my hands in every single one I produce – but for now, I am still learning.

I am also a highly skilled eater – one of the most highly skilled eaters I know of, actually. You see, not only do I eat normal foodstuffs like Babybels, fromage frais and cake – I am also a skilled consumer of crayon, fluff and – on occasion – the aforementioned poop. I feel this wide palate has prepared me adequately for childhood.

Toddlerhood has improved my acting skills threefold; I have mastered the ‘happy face’, ‘sad face’ and ‘surprised face’, and can perform these on demand. I am currently working on ‘angry face’, ‘sucked-a-lemon face’ and ‘shocked face’, but I predict that these will be mastered in no time if I am successful in my application. My tutors (they call themselves Mama and Dada, but I know them as The Incubator and The One Who Stops Me Pulling The TV On Top Of Myself) are very pleased with my progress, and practically wet themselves in delight every time I master a new face, which should go some way to highlight how advanced my skills are.

Other examples of relevant skills include preferring the box to whatever expensive present “Mama” and “Dada” have bought for me, yelling “MINE!” whenever I see them holding something and spinning around in circles until I fall onto my bottom. I have excellent tracking skills, and can sniff out the dirtiest, smelliest, stickiest objects a mile away so that I can put my hands on them, and I have recently learned to identify the sounds of: a) a Babybel wrapper being opened; b) a banana being peeled and c) “Mama” or “Dada” eating something. Using classical conditioning, I have trained myself to scream until they hand the Babybel/banana/whatever they are eating to me, and I have trained them to hold cushions over their faces or run into different rooms to eat something. They think that I don’t see, but I’m well aware of what they’re doing, and it’s rather hilarious.

My future ambitions include fooling my parents into thinking I am potty trained, so that they will let me run around the house without my nappy on and hone my skills in poo-hiding, widening my palate by eating more objects like paperclips and small toys, and lulling my parents into a false sense of security so they provide me with a brother or sister to train up as a minion/partner in crime.

As you can see, I am more than qualified for a place in your hallowed institution of toddlerhood, and I hope my application is successful. Rest assured, if it is not, I will throw a public tantrum and embarrass you into giving me my way. It has always worked so far.

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As a quick note, if you’ve come to this post looking for personal statement advice, please seek it elsewhere. Writing this made me SB go against every guideline and rule in the book (Don’t begin your statement with a quote, don’t use words like “passionate”, don’t say “ever since I was a child/for as long as I can remember I have wanted to _______”, don’t appeal directly to the person reading the statement, don’t boast about your pooping skills etc) and if she was applying to a real university with this statement, I wouldn’t rate her chances of getting in too highly (I will, however, be writing a post on personal statement tips in the next few months).

But there we go. Handily, this personal statement also serves as a nineteen month update for SB, because it pretty much sums up everything we’ve experienced with her recently. Crossing my fingers that she will get out of the “I MUST TOUCH THE CONTENTS OF MY NAPPY” stage soon… I won’t be missing that phase one bit.

What would your little one include in their personal statement? Let me know in the comments!