By Carmen Beauchesne of Funny Girls Problems and How to Solve Them
From morning until night, life in a toddler regime can be difficult. My almost 3-year-old is a monster right now, you guys. A holy terror that is breaking toys, all my earthly possessions, and most notably, my spirit. But it’s hard being 3. Here’s a look at what life is like for the toddler who is running my insane asylum.
My room is dark. I don’t like that. Hey, my pull-up is wet—I’ll just take that off. Oops, I think I pee-peed in my big boy bed/jumping apparatus. Better call my mommy to fix that. I don’t know what “for the love of everything, it’s 3 A.M” means, but I’m sure glad I have a sleeve to finally wipe all that snot on. No, Mommy, don’t go. I want a song. No, not that song. Hmmm, maybe a story would be a better idea. Where you going, Mom? Don’t worry, I’ll scream-cry for you again shortly. Maybe I’ll let you settle down first and then call for you. You seem to bolt out of bed faster that way.
Good morning! Yes, get these urine soaked pj’s off me already. Ha-ha! Try and catch me to put those clothes on! Remember, if you try and put me in jeans or a shirt with buttons, you will be dead to me. Thanks in advance for continuing to dress me like a homeless person. I will scream for sweatpants that are neither too lose nor too tight, but those preferences will change daily. Thanks for understanding.
I’m thirsty. I want milk. Now. In the red cup. What are you doing? I said juice in the green cup. What kind of sphere of hell is this that you don’t serve juice? Mommy not being nice. I should lie down on the floor and demand a new family. What are those…mini waffles?? Let me lick your face with my tears to show you how much I love you.
I see my brother is playing with a toy I have never once paid attention to, but I cannot continue to live unless I play with that. RIGHT NOW. What the hell? Hitting me on the head all because I forcibly removed the toy from your grasp, bit you, and drew blood? Seems unfair. Surely my mom will punish him forever and send him to live with Grandma. Wait, no, that would be like a dream. Wait, what is happening? Why am I going to the time out spot? This is ridiculous. Maybe if I slap her she will realize she is punishing the wrong child. Oops, now she’s not speaking. She is leaving the room. Where you go, Mom? I’m sorry that I have no control over my emotions or my limbs. Come back. I need your sleeve again. So much snot on my face. I should probably cry harder to wash it all away.
Lunchtime! Yeah! Sandwiches? What is this, daycare? I will let her know this is unacceptable and dismantle this sandwich and put it on the floor where it belongs. I want yogurt. But not a yogurt tube or yogurt drink — yogurt in one of your fancy bowls. No cutlery, thanks. I’ll just use my hands.
Now it’s naptime, or as I call it, “dismantle my entire room time.” My mommy doesn’t even care as long as I don’t call for her every 5 goddamn minutes and just let her have a break already. I don’t understand why my mom is saying she wants this day to be over with. That fort I made with all my clothes out of my dresser is really awesome. She just put on the TV and told me and my brother to watch something so she could deal with her “laundry depression,” whatever that means.
My mommy is starting to make dinner so I’ll sit on her foot so I can be extra helpful. She says she is making Kraft Dinner….my favorite! I wonder if I should tell her now or later that I don’t really want that. Later…she seems busy. I’ll just ask her for something else as soon as she sits down.
I think we are supposed to have a bath tonight, but my parents are talking very loudly at each other about whose turn it is, so I’m not sure it will even happen. Either way, crying about it seems to be the obvious way to get the attention back on me.
After drinking most of the bath water even though “that’s gross, you’ve peed in it,” I feel snuggly and ready to remind my mommy why she loves me so much. I’ll even let her read “Goodnight Moon” to me again even though I know she only reads it because it has like 10 words. I say “night night” and smile because I know I’ll see her again in 5 minutes when I tell her I’m thirsty. I wonder when my parents will catch onto this whole “co-sleeping phenomenon.” It sounds amazing. Maybe if I dream about it, it will come true. Nighty night.
The reason you are penniless and exhausted,
Your Toddler xoxoxo
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About the Author
Carmen Beauchesne is a teacher in the crime fighting business, lives in a place where the air hurts her face, and dreams of being able to use the washroom without having to clean it first. She has two boys, a pre-schooler and a toddler, so you can imagine all the free time she must have. She spends most days eating salad alone at her desk at work and fully admits that she is a terrible, terrible driver. You can check out her blog at funnygirlproblems.com and follow her on Twitter at @sadeatingsalad.