You might be living with toddlers if:
Autocorrect totally harshes your toddler speak mellow. I AM QUOTING MY KIDS AND THEY SAID “FWYFWY” DAMMIT, NOT FRENCH FRY. And it means butterfly, so not even close. I need it to be as ducking cute as they are, autocorrect. Get it together already.
Everywhere you go right now involves an Abbott and Costello like bit beforehand –
“WHAT WE GONNA TAKE MAMA?”
“the stroller. it’s too far for you guys to walk.”
“I WANT TO TAKE MY BIKE.”
“maybe we should just drive. it looks like it’s going to rain.”
“IT’S NOT GOING TO RAIN MAMA. LET’S JUST WALK.”
“LET’S TAKE THE STROLLER.”
“I WILL TAKE MY BIKE.”
They repeat every single thing you say. Sometimes at the worst moment or when you least expect it. “I is being a dick.” Welp. Last time I say that.
You have to get at least 6 board books from the library along with all the paper books because board books are the only ones they can be trusted with in their bedroom alone to NOT RIP APART.
You find yourself saying things that you never ever thought would enter your dimension let alone come out of your mouth:
“Don’t drink the foot water!”
“Push your penis down when you sit on the potty. Honey, you don’t have to push your vagina down.”
“Yes, I would miss you if you flushed yourself down the potty. And I would miss your sister if you flushed her down the potty.”
“DON’T TOUCH THE POOP. DON’T TOUCH YOUR BROTHERS POOP EITHER.”
“You can’t wear beeboops today because they need to be washed.”
Your Netflix queue consists of PBS Kids shows, Mickey Mouse, Signing Time and Dora. And way at the bottom of the list are all the documentaries you are GOING TO WATCH but really you keep going back to Gilmore Girls, Friends and Hart of Dixie when you have 30 minutes.
You eat food as if you are in a pie eating contest every single time because if you don’t inhale it in the kitchen hidden behind a counter, that food is going to be sniffed out, WHAT YOU EATING MAMA’ed and then it’s all over because of course you give them the food out of your mouth if they really want it. Except the junk food that is just for mommy and daddy because no way.
Everything that happens in the bathroom and potty training. Every. Single. Thing. Analyzed, talked about at length, and then CHEERED. Cheering for you and cheering for them. Life has never been so gd cheerful!
No one in your home can open any of the door handles because they all have safety handles. Pizza delivery men are left outside on our doorstep for hours as we fumble with the door. I send snacks out through the window.
Everything is sticky. EVERY DAMN THING IS STICKY.
We can tolerate PBS Kids or Sprout on 24/7 but god help anybody if we hear the shows even one minute after they’ve gone to bed. HOMICIDAL TENDENCIES.
You could feed an entire neighborhood for a week with what is found in the cushions and under the couch.
Our queen bed is just as much fun as a bouncy and much more cozy.
DUCT TAPE ON DIAPERS AT NIGHT.
Conversations happen like –
“I hurt my penis.”
“You don’t have a penis.”
“I hurt my bagina. Where my bagina goin?”
“Go ask mommy where you’re vagina is going.”
“MAMA WHERE MY BAGINA GOING?”
“I don’t know how to answer that question honey.”
You find incestuous proclamations incredibly sweet – FOR NOW.
“I’m married to daddy.”
“Me married to Bebe.”
“Not yet Gah.”
She’s keeping her options open. I like that.
You have to pretend they are really good at hide and seek, even when we all know it’s just not true.
You get encouragement in the most random places, because they learned it from you – “YOU ARE DOING A GREAT JOB CUTTING DAT PIZZA MAMA!”
Even though it seems like you live in an insane asylum most days and if anybody were to walk in and see what was happening at any given moment with two toddlers underfoot you might deny everything, you wouldn’t trade it for the world.
You know these days will disappear soon and you will miss the laughter and the craziness and yes, even all the stickiness.
I am a big big fan of toddlers. Messy, inquisitive, funny, obstinate, cuddly, standoffish, ticklish, demanding, adorable, thankful, smart as hell, seemingly independent yet still need you for a hell of a lot toddlers.
They seem like they are getting to be bigger kids sometimes and then when you see them so tiny running through a big field, or needing their bottoms wiped and you are smacked down with their vulnerability. A hawk could swoop down. A giant could climb down from the sky. Terrible awful things could happen and they are still SO LITTLE.
One day we won’t hear them singing GO CUBS GO from their beds as they fall asleep together in their room and as they fall asleep say I WUV YOU TOO.
One day they may not say COME SIT WIF ME as Dora comes on.
Some day they won’t announce themselves clamoring up the stairs to you by saying, HI MAMA IT’S ME (FULL NAME HERE), as if I didn’t know but it makes me smile so big every time.
We are in no rush. A clean home is overrated. A quick trip to the store is too easy.
Let them be little.
And I’ll wipe off that counter and pick up that car for the 8,000th time today.
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