Less Than Perfect

Ladies and gentlemen, I'd like to invite you to play a game!  People of all ages, gather round for a guessing game that I like to call: Toddler or Cat All you have to do is correctly guess the answer to each question by using the word either Toddler or Cat.   Winners will receive the right to pat themselves on their own back.  No further prizes exist. So now, if you're ready, let us begin!!! 1.  Likes to scream at the door anytime she or he is not allowed to follow the dog out. Did you guess cat?  Give yourself one pat!  He will continue to cry until the dog comes in or he manages to escape, resulting in much cursing, crying and barefoot chasing around the yard. 2.  Likes to dig into the laundry and get a pair or pairs of underpants wrapped around her or his head. Did you guess toddler?  One more pat!  This is an EVERY. DAY. OCCURRENCE.   3.  Attempts to get all of the things off of all of the surfaces all of the time (think counters, tables, etc)

During the newborn phase of parenting, I found it important to remind myself that those middle of the night wakings would end.  I needed to keep up the mantra to myself that it won't last forever.  Newborns take a lot from a parent; all of that missed sleep is such a difficult thing.  Knowing that at some point I would get back to a normal sleep schedule was the only thing that got me through. Now, though, every night at some point, The Munchkin will fuss herself awake.  At 21 months, she goes to bed like a dream and sleeps most of the night through.  But somewhere between 3 and 4, inevitably, she wakes and needs a cuddle. I go to her and lift her from the crib, bring her to the rocking chair and we rock.  Usually only five minutes or so, sometimes longer if one of us needs.  Sometimes I have a bit of an internal battle with myself about this nighttime ritual.  I tell myself that I am only reinforcing the waking by picking her up and rocking her.  I tell myself I should let her

One of our little family obsessions games is finding shoes on the side of the road.  Just kind of a road game that The Mister and I play as we drive along wherein we see a shoe and scream "SHOE!".  Maybe not so much a game as a thing we do.  I brought it to the marriage.   I have noticed for years that people seem to lose an absurd amount of shoes either in or along side of the road.  It baffles me.  I mean, I can understand the occasional flip flop flying off of a foot propped out the car window, but often times I see shiny dress shoes, nice looking tennis shoes or boots.  How IN THE LOVE do you lose a tie on dress shoe while driving down the road?  I think I started yelling out "SHOE" just so I would know that I wasn't the only one seeing these things.  Once I saw a whole gaggle of shoes in the road, like 10 in a pile.  It's like they were there just for me . I have long thought about what a great coffee table book this would make.  At least to me

My spunky little girl, how is it that you are already 18 months old?  You have gotten so big!  You are taller than the kitchen table now.  As you have for months, you love to climb.  Everything.  Mommy, primarily, but also Daddy and Sissy and the kitchen tables and the fridge and the stove and pretty much anything you can get purchase on.  You are on the go and BUSY all of the time.  You have already learned to climb out of both your pack and play and your crib.  Lucky for Mom and Dad, you still wear your boots for clubbed feet at night, so I think that will buy us a little more time in the crib (at night, anyway). You love your sister.  You climb on her a lot too, which incites a lot of screaming on her part.  But you two are finally getting to an age where you will play happily together sometimes and it pleases me so much to hear you both giggling away. You love to explore and have no fear.  When we took you to the ocean this summer you went right for it and didn't miss

We are driving back from meeting her first grade teacher when my daughter cries out, "Mom!  Look at that cloud!  It's shaped just like a heart." I glance quickly out the side window as I navigate the road.  "Oh, yeah," I say softly, not really looking hard because I know that often the shapes in clouds are meant for only one viewer.  My answer, initially, is a lie meant to let her know that I'm listening without causing me to nearly crash the car trying to see what she does. Then, right before I look away, I see it.  A single cloud, big and puffy, in the perfect shape of a heart.  "I think it's shining love down onto all of us," says The Nugget.  I smile.  She is so kind hearted.  As we turn a corner she wiggles in her seat, twisting and turning to keep the heart in her line of sight.  Already, part of the edge is drifting apart.  "I never want it to go away!" she cries. "Well, honey, clouds dissipate.  That's just what

Just sit quietly.  Do not clap your hands.  Do not attempt to understand anyone's viewpoint other than your own.  Whatever you do, cling to symbols such as the confederate flag as marks of history and deny that they ever represented anything to do with racism.  Discount any feelings from people of color who note that having this flag hanging in an official capacity makes them uncomfortable.  Tell people to "get over it" because it is "just a flag".  Have absolutely no insight into the fact that perhaps it is YOU who should "get over it" and agree to take it down because it is "just a flag". If you're a racist and you don't know it, then by all means, please refer all acts of racism back to the days of slavery and make sure to note that you were not responsible for this.  Tell people that they should move on, that even though things aren't perfect they are so much better than they were then.  Disregard the families whose unarmed

The first one awake, just before 1:00AM, is The Munchkin.  She is starting to get some molars and the poor thing is struggling.  I awaken to her tears and go to her crib, Tylenol in hand.   She drinks it eagerly and we snuggle up in the rocking chair, both nodding off together for a time before she is fully relaxed and I put her back into bed. A couple of hours later, I bolt fully awake to the tears of The Nugget.  She is half-crawling, half-walking into my bedroom, crying out, "Mommy, my legs hurt."  She has had these growing pains since she was a baby.  They are terrible to endure.  I carry her back to her bed and bring her some ibuprofen.  I lie next to her and sing quietly, rubbing her legs and stroking her hair until the medicine takes hold and the tears abate.  When her breathing is regular, some 20 minutes later, I cover her up and return to my bed. It's funny, I realize, but I am grateful for these kinds of growing pains.  I know just what to do to ease them.