My 17 month old daughter started walking about two months ago.
I, like an idiot, encouraged her to do it. I would hold her hands and have her let go for a second, she'd wobble and fall, but discover it wasn't such a big deal. After a bit she got braver, taking some steps by herself before reaching for my hand again. Then one day she woke up and decided she wasn't going to need anymore of my lame ass help, she was on her own. And she was ready to fuck some shit up.
That was the day that my life really took a nose dive to sucksville, population 2. Well, three if you count our dog, Dave, who I'm pretty confident counts himself because his life sucks now too. We're all going down with this ship.
Look it wasn't like I didn't know this was coming. All of my other mama friends with kids who were walking already had a commonality among them. They'd say, "Oh, just you wait! It's going to be so crazy soon! You'll be more tired than you were when she was a newborn and your place will be trashed, trust me! Oh man, you have it coming to you!"
I dismissed these comments with a smile, thinking that they couldn't be more wrong! My Bo is a dainty flower who will acquire the skill of walking by herself with grace and dignity. She will use this new found power for good, not evil! She would never do anything to disrupt our happy household or make things harder on her kind, loving parents. For she is of my loins, and I have raised her right.
Turns out, nope! Not only is she super into destroying everything in the house, leaving only a trail of smashed blueberries and crushed leaves (why does she have leaves? Where did she get them? Did she somehow smuggle those out of the park without me noticing? If so, where does she hide them? She doesn't have pockets on this outfit...in her cheeks? Oh Jesus, I'm so tired!) in her wake, but she isn't having any of my input on the subject. The second I gently suggest that perhaps pouring Dave's dog food all over the floor and then covering it with his water isn't the most fun thing for mommy to take care of, she morphs into this adorable Godzilla who has enough energy to rip out the pages of ALL of her books and throw herself on the floor in a screaming fit because she doesn't want her juice. I simply cannot keep up with her!
Already today she has tipped over the laundry hamper, taken out five or six pairs of my underpants and one bra, wrapped them around her neck until it looks like she's wearing a really jenkie cowl neck scarf, stuff a majority of her raviolis in there, and chase Dave around screeching until he hides in the closet. He hasn't come out, someone send food.
Then we go to Costco where she demanded that she walks the entire square footage of the place. When we quietly explained that she has to follow us because, you know, we could go to jail for letting her do her own thing for too long, she yelled and began pulling down the entire display of Kleenex boxes.
In my 20's I would've worn a badge of honor for being such a wreck I was thrown out of the Costco, but nowadays, not so much. We had to buy a lot of Kleenex. If anyone needs any, hit us up.
When we finally got home to unpack our Costco purchases, we took our eyes off of her for literally one second and she went into the bathroom to un-roll all of the toilet paper. Not just the one on the holder, mind you, but every single roll. Even the ones still in the package. I mean, damn, right? That takes skills! When we get ready to move I'm going to task her with dismantling the Ikea furniture since it appears she's the only one in the family who has any shot at it!
Here's the most perplexing thing about this; all she wants more than anything else in this world is to walk all over the place, all the time, and it's frustrating and infuriating to her that on occasion she can't. This baffles me, because I for one would fucking LOVE it if someone would make me sit down once in a while. That would be incredible since walking blows. Hell, let's trade places, kid. You walk and I'll just sit here in this grocery cart and smile at people who coo at me. You're living the fucking dream! Don't you know what you have? Are you aware of how much people in other countries pay for what you get for free? Do you realize what I could charge in Thailand to change some dudes diaper while he eats a grilled cheese and watches Sesame Street? BIG BUCKS little lady! Sure, the money I make will never erase the horrific experience of it or stop the night terrors, but at least your college will get paid for in record time!
Look, don't get me wrong. I'm pumped that my kid is independent and kicking ass, just as long as it's not my ass she's kicking. On the other hand, I can look on the bright side of things. I now have an actual excuse for why my house always looks like a hurricane ripped through it, and why I simply can't get it tidy under any circumstances.
Now if you'll excuse me I have to try to get a 20 second power nap/pee break in before my kid remembers that she has the ability to open up the fridge, identify only the breakable items and cover the floor with them.
God speed.
I, like an idiot, encouraged her to do it. I would hold her hands and have her let go for a second, she'd wobble and fall, but discover it wasn't such a big deal. After a bit she got braver, taking some steps by herself before reaching for my hand again. Then one day she woke up and decided she wasn't going to need anymore of my lame ass help, she was on her own. And she was ready to fuck some shit up.
That was the day that my life really took a nose dive to sucksville, population 2. Well, three if you count our dog, Dave, who I'm pretty confident counts himself because his life sucks now too. We're all going down with this ship.
Look it wasn't like I didn't know this was coming. All of my other mama friends with kids who were walking already had a commonality among them. They'd say, "Oh, just you wait! It's going to be so crazy soon! You'll be more tired than you were when she was a newborn and your place will be trashed, trust me! Oh man, you have it coming to you!"
I dismissed these comments with a smile, thinking that they couldn't be more wrong! My Bo is a dainty flower who will acquire the skill of walking by herself with grace and dignity. She will use this new found power for good, not evil! She would never do anything to disrupt our happy household or make things harder on her kind, loving parents. For she is of my loins, and I have raised her right.
Turns out, nope! Not only is she super into destroying everything in the house, leaving only a trail of smashed blueberries and crushed leaves (why does she have leaves? Where did she get them? Did she somehow smuggle those out of the park without me noticing? If so, where does she hide them? She doesn't have pockets on this outfit...in her cheeks? Oh Jesus, I'm so tired!) in her wake, but she isn't having any of my input on the subject. The second I gently suggest that perhaps pouring Dave's dog food all over the floor and then covering it with his water isn't the most fun thing for mommy to take care of, she morphs into this adorable Godzilla who has enough energy to rip out the pages of ALL of her books and throw herself on the floor in a screaming fit because she doesn't want her juice. I simply cannot keep up with her!
Already today she has tipped over the laundry hamper, taken out five or six pairs of my underpants and one bra, wrapped them around her neck until it looks like she's wearing a really jenkie cowl neck scarf, stuff a majority of her raviolis in there, and chase Dave around screeching until he hides in the closet. He hasn't come out, someone send food.
Then we go to Costco where she demanded that she walks the entire square footage of the place. When we quietly explained that she has to follow us because, you know, we could go to jail for letting her do her own thing for too long, she yelled and began pulling down the entire display of Kleenex boxes.
In my 20's I would've worn a badge of honor for being such a wreck I was thrown out of the Costco, but nowadays, not so much. We had to buy a lot of Kleenex. If anyone needs any, hit us up.
When we finally got home to unpack our Costco purchases, we took our eyes off of her for literally one second and she went into the bathroom to un-roll all of the toilet paper. Not just the one on the holder, mind you, but every single roll. Even the ones still in the package. I mean, damn, right? That takes skills! When we get ready to move I'm going to task her with dismantling the Ikea furniture since it appears she's the only one in the family who has any shot at it!
Here's the most perplexing thing about this; all she wants more than anything else in this world is to walk all over the place, all the time, and it's frustrating and infuriating to her that on occasion she can't. This baffles me, because I for one would fucking LOVE it if someone would make me sit down once in a while. That would be incredible since walking blows. Hell, let's trade places, kid. You walk and I'll just sit here in this grocery cart and smile at people who coo at me. You're living the fucking dream! Don't you know what you have? Are you aware of how much people in other countries pay for what you get for free? Do you realize what I could charge in Thailand to change some dudes diaper while he eats a grilled cheese and watches Sesame Street? BIG BUCKS little lady! Sure, the money I make will never erase the horrific experience of it or stop the night terrors, but at least your college will get paid for in record time!
Look, don't get me wrong. I'm pumped that my kid is independent and kicking ass, just as long as it's not my ass she's kicking. On the other hand, I can look on the bright side of things. I now have an actual excuse for why my house always looks like a hurricane ripped through it, and why I simply can't get it tidy under any circumstances.
Now if you'll excuse me I have to try to get a 20 second power nap/pee break in before my kid remembers that she has the ability to open up the fridge, identify only the breakable items and cover the floor with them.
God speed.
Omg. I'm terrified now.
ReplyDeleteSuch a great story! Keep them coming!
ReplyDeleteYou have got it going on with this story. Laughed till I cried. Welcome to the "Toddler Years"
ReplyDelete