The first three to six months of my son’s existence were h-a-r-d. HARD.
A lot of well-meaning people looked at the oversize bags under my eyes, smiled, and said, “It’ll get better.” My more honest friends laughed, gave me a hug, and said, “It’ll get different.”
Now I officially have a toddler. Some things are easier. Some are different. And some things – 10 to be exact – are definitely harder.
Walking
I remember thinking when I was lugging my 20-something-pound baby plus his 14-pound carrier and his gajillion-pound baby bag, it will be so nice when he can walk. HA! Dear former self, he may be heavy, but at least you can take him where YOU want to go. Have you ever tried walking several mules at the same time? Me either. But I have a feeling it’s a lot like walking with a toddler. Step, step, oooh rock! Step, step, what’s that? Step, step, AIRPLANE! There is only so much dragging gentle tugging you can do before someone gives a questioning look.S
Sleeping
Ah, sleeping. Now here’s where there’s some truth to the “it’ll get better” myth. Your child’s sleep patterns will get better. As long as he’s not going through a growth spurt. Or cutting his molars. Or having night terrors. Or fighting a cold. Or reciting the latest Sesame Street. And as long as it’s not Tuesday. Or Sunday.
Keeping the Fridge/Pantry Stocked
When I taught middle and high school, I remember parents telling me that their teenagers were eating them out of house and home. Tantrums are not the only thing teenagers and toddlers have in common. How much applesauce can one relatively small 2-year-old eat? The answer is the reason I clean out the Mott’s shelf every grocery trip. The next time I go to the pediatrician I’m asking her to x-ray my kid’s legs because surely one of them must be hollow.
Having a Conversation
So today at work… It’s a star… this really cool thing happened. Hey – get off of there! I got a phone call from… I see. Yay!… New Orleans, and… Go drum somewhere other than my vagina!…Where was I? Oh, right, nowhere because I have a toddler and can’t have an uninterrupted conversation. If you want to have an actual conversation with me during my kid’s waking hours, text me.
Keeping Anything Clean
The car. The carpet in our house. The pants I wear. NOTHING is clean. Sometimes my hair isn’t. Even more often my language isn’t. Probably because on zero sleep I’m trying to have a conversation as I’m walking my toddler around the grocery store to stock the pantry.
Doing Anything at Home During Waking Hours
The little darling is playing so nicely by himself, I think I’ll just try to read a page of my book. Mama? Mama down couch. Need Mama sit floor. MAMA! Mama, PLAY! See also Having a Conversation.
Getting Anywhere on Time
We usually have to be out of the house by 8:15. Not terribly early. Especially when you are woken up at 5:00. Still, three hours is apparently not long enough to get out the door on time with a toddler. There is, of course, the need to read right after getting out of bed. Once I finally get him downstairs for breakfast, he has to see what’s been moved around and play with a toy or two. Then there’s breakfast number one, which he decides he’s done with awfully quickly for someone who one minute ago was screaming EAT! EAT! like he’d been starved for the last week.
Then he has to check on his toys in the living room again. Five to ten minutes later he’s asking for breakfast two. And usually there’s a fit somewhere in between because I gave him the blue fork instead of the yellow one (even though he asked for the blue one). By this time – 6:30ish – I’m already exhausted and ready to turn in for the day. But there’s the struggle of both of us getting dressed, making sure we have everything we need for the day, wrestling to put shoes on, and stuffing limbs in jackets. After all that, we can leave.
Except we can’t.
Because then it’s time to run around the coffee table to avoid the necessary hand holding to go down the front steps. I’m sweating through my jacket, dropping lunchboxes, and using unclean language. Toddler finally in tow, we are five minutes late, but all we have to do is make the 20 steps from the door to the car. It takes ten minutes – because see Walking.
Marital … Relations
More often than not, I’m taking my unclean sweats to bed and laying my unclean hair on my pillow in hopes of getting a few hours of sleep. But every once in a while, you know, the urge strikes. The one time that week you feel like putting on your nicest lingerie will be the one night your toddler cries … for 12 hours. Similarly, the day you decide to leave the dishes in the sink during your toddler’s usual two-hour nap to enjoy a little afternoon delight will be the time he wakes up after 15 minutes and can’t go back to sleep. Let’s just say that parents of toddlers perfect the art of “the quickie.”
Keeping Your Sanity
Disclaimer: I didn’t have much sanity left after barely surviving the newborn phase. That said, when you’re the parent of a toddler, you often feel like you’re a broken record. From having to repeat “Come here and put on your shoes” ten different ways to reading the same book over and over again, it’s easy to lose the shred of sanity you’ve been clinging to since birthing your child. And if that’s not enough to make you lose your mind, go back and reread the last couple of paragraphs. I’ve been rocking back and forth just writing this post.
Staying Mad
But no matter how much sleep your toddler steals from you, no matter how many loads of laundry he adds to your “to do” list, no matter how many F-bombs he inspires or how many times he drives you to the brink, it’s impossible to stay mad because toddlers are full of cuteness and cuddles and unconditional love.
