Toddlers are just miniature scientists and everything is an experiment attempting to determine the outcome of a certain action.
This is the theory that keeps my reactions to Wolfy reasoned, rather than reactionary. I think whoever came up with it must be a genius. But wasn’t it also scientists who discovered LSD? Perhaps toddlers are more in the vein of these sorts of experimenters. What I mean is that toddlers are not living in quite the same reality as everyone else. Their reality looks and smells like our reality but it is slightly off. Continue reading “Toddler Scientists”
Wolfy has decided that he wants a sibling.
He and I had a conversation last week and he informed me that he would like to have a baby brother, but not a baby sister. He also acted rather dubious when I told him that the baby would belong to me and that I would have to spend a lot of my energy taking care of it. Continue reading “Lonely Only”
I am a bad mother. I don’t do all the things that good mothers do.
Wolfy does not attend mommy-son music classes or spontaneously throw down yoga positions. Most days I don’t even have plans for the two of us beyond eating breakfast. Instead, as I walk through the grocery store, troll around on the internet, and drag Wolfy to play dates, I subconsciously measure myself against all the good mothers out in the world. I come up very short against the truly dedicated parents. You know, the ones who post on social media about all the amazing crafts they create with their children, the ones who take their children to play outside everyday in the snow. Continue reading “Bad Mother”
I am ruled by a two year old overlord.
He starts at breakfast by asking for juice, then for milk, then for coffee, until the Prince is sitting before a proud display of one or two breakfasts and several drinks. Then it’s onto the battle of getting dressed. He wants the blue shoes. “No! The blue shooooooes!” So I give in and he ends up wearing sneakers even though it’s minus ten outside. Continue reading “Little Ayatollah Jr.”
Do children come into this world preprogrammed? When scientists mapped the human genome were they able to pinpoint the exact moment in the second year of life that a toddler will become a ‘no machine’?
One morning, not long ago, my child woke up and decided that from that day forward, whenever it is time to use the potty or put on his coat, he would run in the opposite direction as fast his chubby legs could carry him, gleefully yelling, “I run away!”
Perhaps it was also buried somewhere deep in his genetic material to suddenly shun his mother and love only Papa. Continue reading “Papa’s Boy”