Telling Our Child About the Death of Our Pet

Goodbye Kitty

Teaching our two-year old son about the death of our pet was not something I was prepared to do this week.

But often, we don’t get to pick when our little furry friends depart our families. Continue reading “Telling Our Child About the Death of Our Pet”

Fourteen Hours of Airplane Travel with a Toddler – A Diary

View from Airplane Window
The Cast:

The Mommy– a 30 year old woman, thirteen weeks pregnant
The Husband – a 32 year old man, who just wants to read his book in peace and instead has to carry all of the luggage
Wolfy – a toddler boy aged 2.5 years, “functioning” on seven hours of sleep Continue reading “Fourteen Hours of Airplane Travel with a Toddler – A Diary”

Toddlers Are Gross

Toddlers Are GrossA few minutes ago, Wolfy walked up to me and licked me on the arm for no apparent reason. Where did he get the idea that this was okay? I don’t go around licking my friends and family. And I’m almost certain that my husband doesn’t do that kind of thing either. Yet when I ask my two year old son, Wolfy, any of these completely reasonable questions and all I get in response is a blank stare.

Toddlers are gross. It just seems to come naturally to them.

Continue reading “Toddlers Are Gross”

Toddler Scientists

child-862979_1280

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”

Bad Mother

Bad Mother

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”