Toddler For Sale: and Letter to the Boy

Toddler for Sale! Toddler for Sale! Good condition, small patch of excema on face and behind knees, Aveeno lotion helps clear it up. Only needs a haircut every 4 weeks or so. Not toilet trained. Generally agreeable so long as you’re doing things his way. $20,000/ OBO.

I jest.

Dear sweet adorable child of mine:

A-hem. We have had a whirlwind of fun and excitement this last month. Three Christmas celebrations, a New Years’ Eve celebration, too many toys games and puzzles to count. You have been spoiled all along, we know that much. But sometime over the last month, you’ve become spoiled rotten. I’d like to blame the new television, or maybe all the chaos of being out of a routine. But realistically it’s probably just a normal stage in your development. Or at least, that’s what “the Googles” are telling me.

Though we purchased a very nice big boy potty for you, you are terrified of it. We moved the other potty downstairs into the living room. You’ve sat on it for a total of 2 hours over the last few days, and absolutely nothing has happened. I have an unopened bag of Christmas m&m’s just waiting as a reward for you to put SOMETHING in the potty (pee OR poop). But, instead  you just take the bowl out of it and place it on your head as a hat. Or you close the potty and use it as a step stool for you to jump off of.

Since acquiring the new television, you try to manipulate the images on the screen like you would an iPad or iPhone. Damn Steve Jobs. Now anything with any sort of screen will forever be etched with sticky toddler finger marks. As a result of the new television, you are on a Caillou binge. You love Caillou. I don’t mind him much. He’s four. He does things with his family. He whines a bit, but he’s four. Whatever. Caillou has a pet cat named Gilbert, who you call Yogurt. That’s pretty hilarious.

A tantrum followed us trying to pry your firetruck out of your hands at bedtime.

You’ve taken to terrible AWFUL tantrums. It’s mind boggling to me. You become a complete maniac. I’m assured this is normal (by the interwebs) but it’s such a stark contrast to the rest of your personality thus far, that I sometimes think you’ve been possessed. Today while trying to change your diaper (you didn’t want to) I swear you were about to rip out my earring ghetto style. It’s almost frightening when you get that way. I’ve done all the things the websites and books tell parents to do when they have a tantruming toddler. Ignore, get down to their level. Hold them, talk softly and explain and acknowledge their feelings. And it’s getting to the point where I feel like I have to smack  you. It’s like watching a friend get drunk at a bar and they’re about to do something stupid and you just want to give them a friendly jolt back to reality. Thing is, I can’t even connect a “high five” correctly, so part of the reason you haven’t been on the receiving end of a swat on the butt is due to my own insecurity- I don’t believe I would be able to successfully connect my hand to your behind in a way that would make ANY difference at all. That, and I really don’t want to hit you or make you think hitting is OK. So whatever, for now I guess we’ll see how it all pans out. Supposedly this tantrum phase eventually goes away when you get your drivers’ license or something.

You just started singing lately, and dancing. The other day you  built a tower out of legos, and then began dancing with it like a prop. It was supposed to be a cane I guess? You love the Wee Sing in Sillyville DVD still, and the JingleHimers are one of your faves (see link if you’re interested).

You talk talk talk all the time, and I love it so much. You are growing up so fast, and I do enjoy almost every minute. But more often than not now, the glances your Daddy and I give each other are more like, “You SURE you want to have another one of these?” or “What the hell are we supposed to do with this?” So I’m hoping those glances go back to the “Look how sweet and wonderful he is” type.

And another thing: you’re starting to look a LOT more like your dad. Like, a lot. And when I peeked in on you NOT napping today, you looked exactly like this:

I told your daddy and he laughed. I did not find it so funny. I feel like I might need another baby just so I don’t get out numbered by crazies.

So shape up child. I love you the most, no matter what.




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