Toddler Terrorism

I want to share something special with you. This is the story that started it all. The original Toddler Terrorism. There's just one thing about it.

I didn't write it.

That's right. My blog's catchy title? I may have forgotten to mention this, but I didn't come up with it.

My husband did.

And now he's insisted I confess that - and share the story he wrote. So, without further ado, I give you the original

Toddler Terrorism

by Daddy

Does anyone else have a toddler who does things like this? This morning I took my daughter into her room to get her ready to sit on the potty, shutting the door behind me to keep my son from following us in and pulling all of her clean clothes out of the laundry basket. After removing her (already disgusting) diaper (and wondering why she still needed to sit on the potty) and heading toward the door, I discovered something was missing. Something important. Namely, the doorknob. It's a type that requires tightening with an allen wrench, and had been loose for several weeks while I was too busy to retrieve said allen wrench from the downstairs workshop. Apparently my daughter had found time to remove it this morning when she wasn't strewing the contents of a new box of diapers all over the room. So now I am trapped in a bedroom with my naked-from-the-waist-down toddler (she needed to sit on the potty, remember?) who is now prancing around the room and singing Veggie tunes.

"Where's the doorknob?" I asked my daughter. Silence. Also a look that clearly says, "I have no idea what you're talking about but will try to humor you anyway."

"Do you remember where you put it?" Pause. "No." Sigh.

At this point, with my focus largely on finding the doorknob/getting us out of the room, I somehow FORGET that I have a half-naked toddler who needs to potty in the room with me. Continuing the search, I discover a decent-sized puddle right next to the laundry basket that I am pretty sure had not been there previously.

"Did you pee on the floor?"

"Yes."

"Why did you do that?"

"Oops."

Here we paused in our search for the missing doorknob to clean up the pee puddle........ Having cleaned up the pee, the search continues without success. I try other options. How about putting two books around the doorknob stem to gain some leverage? No dice. Same result with everything else I try. I call my wife to advise her of the situation and my plans to deal with it. She is not amused. Time to dial 911.

"Mom? I have a small problem." My mother is incredulous that I have managed to lock myself in a room with a toddler while my 10-month old son is enjoying the rest of the house to himself. She agrees to come over and release us.

In a last ditch effort to save my ailing mother a trip over, I start digging through the folded laundry to see if my daughter could possibly have stowed the $%)!! doorknob in the basket. Lo and behold, with a loud THUNK the thing comes plopping out of the laundry onto the hardwood. We are saved. I phone Mom with the good news and turn my attention to the half-naked toddler.

"Are you ready to sit on the potty?"

"I want some apple juice."

"Of course you do." Ain't kids great?

Toddler Tidbits

I'm lounging on the couch with my laptop (love laptops!) doing two of my favorite things: writing a new blog post and drinking hot chocolate. Mmmmmm.

It occurred to me today that it might seem odd to my readers that, despite the name of my blog, I often post about things other than my children. The reason for this is simple: I never intended my blog to be entirely about my children.

What? Then...why did you call it Toddler Terrorism?

Because it's catchy! Don't you think? Is there really any better reason than that? And I do have toddlers (officially two, now, as my baby guy has been walking on his own for about a week). And I am going to post about them a lot. Just not exclusively.

Just thought I'd get that out there for all of you who were wondering. Because you were wondering, right?

I do, however, plan to talk about some toddler terrorism tonight.

Toddler Timing

I took the kids out for a walk with my in-laws tonight. Of course, first I had to get home from work, then we had to eat dinner, then I had to chase my son around with a bottle because he had to have it (whine, whine, whine!) until the very moment I gave it to him, at which point it was time to play. By the time all of that was finished, it was approaching 8:00.

Yes, I leave the house with my kids after 8:00 sometimes. So sue me.

I called my in-laws and told them I needed to change a couple of soggy diapers, then I'd be ready to go. Changed diaper #1. Changed diaper #2. Herded the kids into the living room to get my daughter's shoes.

Then, when we were two minutes from getting out the door - we had almost made it - I heard the last thing a parent wants to hear when they're trying to leave the house. Seven dreaded words that (at least in my house) mean it's going to be a minimum of another fifteen minutes before we can even consider hitting the road.

"I need to sit on the potty."

My initial response was some wishful thinking. "No you don't." (Yes, yes. I know. Bad Mommy. But - fifteen minutes. At least.)

"Yes I do!"

Sigh. Yes, in fact, she did. And she went on the potty. And I didn't have to change a dirty diaper. I should have been thankful for that, but all I could think about was that we had been this close to getting out the door.

We did go walk, even though it was getting close to 8:30 by the time we left the house. It was 9:30 - and dark - by the time we finished walking, but it was a nice night and a pleasant walk and we even got to see a deer.

I know you're jealous.

Toddler Logic

As part of my daughter's bedtime routine, she sits with her daddy and drinks a cup of warm milk. Sitting on the couch. In the living room. (Remember this. It's important.)

While waiting for him to get her milk ready, she started complaining remarking that she was cold. I was sitting on the couch giving my son his bottle and she commanded politely asked me to get her a blanket.

Me: "I can't get it right now. It's in the other room."

Her: "It's not in the other room!"

Me: "Then where is it?"

Her: "In my bedroom."

Toddler Terrorism Turned My Brain To Mush

After the kids were in bed, as I was putting together in advance my son's midnight (or 2 a.m.) bottle - yes, yes, my 14-month-old still gets a middle-of-the-night bottle, at least he's no longer nursing for an hour and a half every night - I conscientiously followed the instructions on the rice milk package and shook it like the kid in first-grade music class who gets to play the tambourine vigorously.

I discovered that those instructions excluded one thing that this mind-numbed mom apparently needed to be told, as she wasn't quick enough on the uptake to figure it out on her own.

Hold down the cap while you shake it, because the seal isn't strong enough to withstand maniacal vigorous shaking on its own.

My husband walked in shortly after I finished mopping up the mess.

Me: "Make sure you hold the rice milk closed before you shake it."

Him: "I already knew that."

Oh, reeeeeeeeally.

Me: "You didn't find that out the hard way, too, did you?"

Him: "No comment."

Heh.

Wordless Wednesday

Not Me...Wednesday?

As I sit here (or wander around there) doing things that I probably shouldn't, or would at least prefer not to admit doing, I realize I could probably do a "Not Me" post every day.

For example...I did not just eat two pieces of the cake that one of the Transmission Operators (at work) brought in to share among the other Operators.

Did I mention I'm not one of the Operators?

Oh no...not me. I wouldn't swipe cake meant for someone else. Twice.

(Okay, okay, they did invite me to have some. I don't want you to think that badly of me. But still. Technically for the guys who are slaving at their desks for twelve-hour-days on shift work...not for me in my cushy 8-5 8:30-5:30 9-5:30 with-lunch-at-my-desk office job.)

Just had to get that out. Now it's back to the grindstone Access database.

(Speaking of Access databases, if anyone knows how to do charts in Access, I'd be ever-so-grateful for the info.)

Favorite Photos

I don't have much to say tonight, so I'm just going to join in the MckLinky Blog Hop and post a few of my favorite pictures. First, a picture of my beautiful bitty girl:

I can't remember what that look was all about, but I thought it was too cute not to share!

And a picture of my baby guy, too:

Notice the green star in his left hand? Yeah. Here is probably the #1 crazy quirk about my baby guy: he loves the color green, and will gravitate towards green toys. Particularly stacking rings. If we visit someone's house and they have stacking rings, he will take out the green one and carry it around with him for the entire rest of the visit. Seriously, he does not put it down for anything. Just imagine, for a moment, the episode of tiny baby fury that occurs when he has to take a bottle and he can't hold both it and the toy.

Not a pretty sight.

If there aren't stacking rings, then he will find another green toy and carry it around, instead. He's not that picky. It just has to be green. And small enough to carry around. The. Whole. Time.

But, quirky or not, he's a cutie. See?

"Not Me" Monday

For the first time, I am going to participate in MckMama's "Not Me Monday," in which I write about all of the crazy (and marginally embarrassing) things I did not do this week.

First of all, I did not procrastinate writing a blog post this past week. I never procrastinate, so the idea that I might have put off putting some words down on my blog is ludicrous. Completely.

I also didn't have a Starbucks "Double Shot" every morning this week. And the week before that. I certainly wouldn't consume 220 calories of caffeine-laden goodness unhealthy beverage every day when I'm trying to lose weight. Of course, since I'm not currently competing in a weight-loss challenge at work, then it wouldn't be a big deal if I did drink it, right? But, of course, I didn't.

Furthermore, I did not think, after a week of being fatigued and nauseated every evening, "Uh oh, what if I'm pregnant?" I did not, with this thought in mind (because it wasn't in my mind, of course) take four home pregnancy tests that I did not buy at Dollar Tree while not hiding in the next aisle over from my mother-in-law who did not happen to walk in while I was not searching frantically for the tests, which the Dollar Tree staff did not, for some ungodly reason, decide to put in the checkout lane instead of with the bathroom/pharmacy/hygiene supplies.

And I did not breathe a huge sigh of relief when the test was not negative. Er. I mean, it was negative. I mean, I'm not pregnant. No, no, really! I mean it this time!

Whew. Where was I?

Oh, yes.

(By the way, the fatigue/nausea did, um, not happen to go away when I stopped drinking the Double Shots. Who knew?)

Anyway. What else did I not do this week? Well, I didn't take the whole bag (the. whole. bag.) of my daughter's chocolate goldfish grahams to work to have as a snack. I mean, geez. What kind of mom parent person would do something like that?

I also did not take a look at some pictures taken of myself on Saturday and realize my face does not look just like it did right before each of my children was born. Ohmygosh where did that second chin come from???

And with that in mind, I did not turn around on Sunday and have a chocolate milkshake, followed by four chocolate-covered strawberries, followed by two pieces of baby shower cake, followed by a Coke on the way home. And that was just my mid-day snack. Or, um, it wasn't.

I also most certainly did not chase my son around with the aforementioned second piece of baby shower cake trying to force bites on him so I could feel more justified in taking that second piece. After all, my son wanted some more cake.

Not me.

I hope you enjoyed my first "Not Me" Monday post, in which I did not go a little overboard in talking about all the crazy bizarre embarrassing perfectly normal things I did this week.

Er, did not do.

Confessions of an anti-cosleeping mom

I confess: I am anti-cosleeping. Not for you and your family, but for me and my family. Please understand - if your kids sleep in your bed with you, and that works for you, then more power to you.

But it is not for us.

Let me explain why.

First, there are the safety issues. I'm not talking SIDS risk - I am really thinking more here about older babies and children, who are past the high-risk age for SIDS. No, I'm talking more everyday things: What if Daddy one of us rolls over in the middle of the night and squashes the baby? What if the baby gets tangled up in the covers and suffocates?

What if he decides he wants to play in the middle of the night and even though we've put him in between us he manages to squirm his way out and crawl around and fall off of our extra-large king-size bed?

Whew. Do you wonder how I sleep at night? Yeah, me too.

Second, there are the attachment issues. If my baby is sleeping in my bed at 1 year old...18 months old...2 years old...will he still be there at 3 years old? 5 years old? 15 years old?

Okay. Probably not 15. But chances are pretty good that it'll be a few years before I get a good night's sleep again.

Third, there is the comfort issue. Sleeping with a baby in your bed - especially for a nursing mom - means sleeping contorted into random uncomfortable positions - all night long. Well. Maybe that's just me. But remember how much I worry? The contortions are to keep the baby as safe from my husband myself rolling around as possible.

Fourth, and this is the most important one (when you accept that my safety concerns are pretty unlikely to happen) - the best thing for my relationship with my husband is to not have a baby in bed with us. That time before we fall asleep is quality time for us, and having a baby in between us makes it hard for us to connect during this time.

So while my child may be needy and really want that extra Mommy Time, the most important thing for him to be healthy and secure is to know that Mommy and Daddy have a good relationship.

That's why I'm against cosleeping, at least for my family.

But.

Sometimes you just have to do what works, and lately my son has been sleeping with us. It was either that or me sit up all night nursing him. The only way I was going to get to sleep lying down was if I brought him into bed with me. So I did.

We're going to work on getting him into his own room soon. But until then, he's going to sleep with us.

And I am enjoying it. My Baby Guy is snuggly. In the middle of the night, he snuggles up close to me and sleeps, and I love it. In the mornings, he wakes up smiling and jabbering. He leans over to my husband and gives him good-morning hugs. It's sweet and precious and something I'm going to treasure long after he's in his own bed.

That is my confession. I, a mom who is very much against cosleeping - at least for my family - am going to miss sleeping with my Baby Guy.

But I'm looking forward to having my Grown-up Guy all to myself again.