It’s not a big deal on my part to let my son ride in the yellow coupe grocery cart and it makes him tremendously happy. Hey, the car-cart is super noisy and the back wheels don't want to touch the ground, but toddler excitement is the best.
It takes forever to get to the bottom of the clothes hamper, and when I do, I frequently realize that I haven’t seen those clothes in quite some time—despite the fact that I have continuously been doing laundry.
Always pack an extra outfit in your diaper bag. If you ever forget, your baby will have a monster blow-out and you’ll have to walk him through a Cracker Barrel dressed in only pants and your adult scarf. (I heard this from a super humiliated friend of mine.)
Who needs to go out to shop? Online shopping is amazing and doesn’t necessitate me getting ready, me getting him ready, puppy-proofing the house, grabbing his sippy cup, forgetting my reusable bags, etc., etc. (Plug: I've discovered Lularoe recently, and I'm hosting an online party next Thursday, the 23rd. Comment below or Facebook me if you want to join!)
There is no haircut which meets my stringent post-baby criteria. My hairstyle wish list includes: hair that doesn’t have to be washed every day, hair that does not require a haircut every six weeks, hair that requires less than one minute to look amazing, hair that does not get overly long (or else when I let it air dry I look like Weird Al. See photos for comparison). I don’t get it. All I want is to spend no time on my hair and have a perfectly coiffed head of hair every single day. Am I asking too much? To be fair, I wanted these things before I had Sam. I just feel like they’re even higher on my priority list now.
I could write a long poem about my son’s feet. They are so sweet, for so many reasons. They are huge feet—like his dad’s—and like his dad’s they have a cute and semi-noticeable gap in between the first and second toe. Sam's feet are always close to me. They’re often on me, digging into the skin of my thighs or arms, or against my nose so that I can smell them and act as if they always stink and the smell offends me. Secretly I know that I could smell my son’s feet—stinky or not—all day long. Actually, I think that he knows this too.
Vacuuming was never fun under the most ideal circumstances and it’s even less fun when my little sweetie turns the vacuum off repeatedly while I’m trying to use it.
It’s possible to be both frustrated and overwhelmed with love at the same time, and this happens over and over again. Toddler curls his lip up at a sweet potato fry, even though he loves sweet potato fries, and then, with his eyes locked on my eyes—just to make sure I’m watching—drops the fry over the side of the tray. Rinse and repeat. Thoughts that race through my head: Ugh. Why won’t he eat? This is taking FOREVER. [Stops to smooth his head and kiss him on his forehead. Look at him hold his hand over his eyes as if he’s in the throes of despair. That’s adorable!] He better eat because I’m not going to sit here the whole day! Rinse and repeat.
Sidewalk chalk is awesome. I get to make cute designs on my sidewalk and my son gets outside time = win-win.
This is a phrase that I repeat frequently, both silently and aloud: “I wonder if he’s…” As in, “he’s been cranky today. I wonder if he’s teething.” Newsflash: I’ve wondered if he was teething since he was about three months old.
I really like Teddy Grahams.
My son is proud of the new things he can do. So often he turns to find me—to seek out my eyes—and make sure that I’m watching. I think that most of what he does is really, really cute, and I’m very proud of him. Wiping his own nose or mouth. Lifting his arms to say yay. Riding in the car-cart at the store. The occasional temper tantrum, many of which involve him slumping to the floor, sometimes rolling around on it, and then usually kissing me.
And it’s miraculous to see him learning how things work. Stickers on mommy’s forehead are funny, because that’s not where stickers usually go. Ice cream should be eaten with a spoon and if he doesn’t get one, he can get his own, thank you very much. Books go on shelves or in drawers. Lions roar and cows moo (although he does so with his mouth closed so it’s more of a hum.) You should always cuddle with a blanket when you watch television.
But sometimes, he pops something in his mouth—like a dime or a leaf or a chunk of play-doh, and I remember, he’s only twenty months old. He still has so much growing up to do.
Spontaneous toddler back pats are the best. No, spontaneous toddler hugs. No wait, spontaneous toddler kisses.