Most of us mamas can attest to the zaniness of toddlerhood. Every day is a conflict of emotions, a wild mix of understanding too much or not quite enough. There are extreme highs and more extreme lows. There is confusion and confidence. There is pride, guilt, and hilarity. Then there are moments where we mamas are left to wonder what. the. actual. fudgesicles? Is that poop?! Today I’m offering a small glimpse into a day in my life with my Tiny Human. If you haven’t reached this stage of crazy yet, keep reading to see your future!
8:35 a.m. So far the morning has been easy. I woke before Tiny Human, muttered “give me coffee or give me death” under my morning breath, showered and downed half a cup of coffee before Tiny Human greeted the day. The remainder of the cup (I’m afraid) would grow cold. Tiny Human and I read books, snuggled and played. Tiny Human enjoys imaginative play and singing, so much singing. What’s with all the singing? Is there a weirdo, techy Ray gun that zaps people into musical dimensions? I’ve been hit. MAN DOWN! Please send help (or coffee).
9:20 a.m. Breakfast went smoothly, mostly, minus Tiny Human’s constant, inconsolable need for Lucky Charms marshmallows. Tiny Human did manage to choke down a banana, so we’ll call it good.
9:33 a.m. As I try getting dressed for the day Tiny Human pitches a fit until I let Tiny Human into my personal things. Tiny Human grabs hold of my jewelry box and proceeds to decorate my bedroom. Go ahead, honey, make it sparkle…
10:07 a.m. I cannot take any more of Tiny Human’s shenanigans. I think it best to terrorize a park instead. Tiny Human independently places shoes on the incorrect feet. I dump coffee down my esophagus and throw some sugar filled, snack action into a bag.
10:24 a.m. Tiny Human and I arrive at park. Tiny Human takes off jogging for approximately three seconds then stops to pick dandelions until Tiny Human’s hands turn fluorescent yellow. (Really/ probably/definitely could have done this at home Tiny Human, just sayin’. Hello! Swings! Tiny Human! ARE YOU WITH ME?!)
10:48 a.m. After the dandelion hold up, the park has been fun. Tiny Human and I sat on a bench to gobble a snack. Tiny Human is cute for a moment. We are nibbling wasabi flavored snap peas and giggling at the insects crawling past our feet. I daydream of giving Tiny Human a Tiny Human sibling, when Tiny Human jumps up and yells “what now?”
10:59 a.m. I decide to take Tiny Human on a spontaneous trip to the grocery store. We admire a fire engine in the parking lot. We go inside the building. All hell breaks loose because I will not agree to push Tiny Human in a shopping cart that looks like an over-sized Hot Wheels car made for three Tiny Humans just to pick up chocolate chips and milk. Tiny Human screams, and tries lofting out of the shopping cart while I jolt around, hurriedly throwing items in the basket. Perhaps Tiny Human believes they are center of the universe? I grab twice the chocolate and a bottle of wine for good measure.
11:50 p.m. Tiny Human and I have just returned home from our shopping trip, both my arms are loaded wrist to elbow with grocery bags. I have a gallon of milk in each hand. I have to pee so badly I might actually lose it. Bladder is like max capacity. Tiny Human is planted in the dead center of the hallway between me and the kitchen. Tiny Human begins stroking my leg with the world’s tiniest twig, squealing “I got youuuu” in the MOST high-pitched voice known to man. Seriously, if it were just one decibel higher, I wouldn’t be able to hear her at all. Just my luck…
11:52 p.m. I have successfully arrived at the previously mentioned toilet. Whew! Close one. Tiny Human shouts “MOMMY”, I plan to not respond. “MOMMY, MOMMY, MOMMY”! Plan foiled. “Yes baby”, I say. “YES BABY”, Tiny Human mimics. Is this real life? I wipe, flush, and wash hands while singing the ABC’s out loud. Habits appear to die hard.
11:55 p.m. I discover Tiny Human has explored and disassembled half of my underwear drawer. Tiny Human has six of my thongs draped from the neck like a turkey’s wattle. I kindly suggest that we should clean up the panties and go fix lunch, Tiny Human complies.
11:59 p.m. I am fishing peanut butter out of the bottom of a jar, remembering I forgot to buy more at the store. Tiny Human is attempting to fish an old banana peel out of the garbage receptacle. It is unclear why.
12:01 p.m. Tiny Human picks something up off the kitchen floor, shouts “pizza”, pops it in a wide open mouth and takes a big gulp before I can even process the fact that we haven’t eaten pizza in over a week. Maybe Tiny Human is delusional? Perhaps I should sweep?
12:04 p.m. Food is served. Tiny Human casually licks cheese off the table and knocks back a bottle of water. Tiny Human is really going to town on that thing! I wonder if Tiny Human is aware it isn’t open? I suppose I could…eh, never mind. I politely urge Tiny Human to taste her peas. Tiny Human is not having it. I spontaneously morph into Belle’s angry beast and growl, “well then, GO AHEAD AND STAAARRVEE!!”
12:34 p.m. In my attempts to clean Tiny Human’s hands, a devilish blood curdling wail escapes the vocal chords of said Tiny Human. I decide to let Tiny Human run rampant with jam hands. Tiny Human’s sticky goop hands will touch everything within sight or reach. It is preferable to the awakened demon howls.
12:46 p.m. It appears Tiny Human and I have very different opinions on home décor styles. Tiny Human’s a bit messy, scattered and eclectic. I am a little more Type A.
12:53 p.m. Maybe countries should just send Tiny Humans to war. I mean, they could destroy the enemy’s territory faster than a hurricane!
1:24 p.m. Tiny Human has gone down for a nap. I plan to finish a handful of chores, peruse the social media world, eat cookies and possibly paint my nails. I start laundry, wash dishes, sweep mysterious pizza bits from the floor, answer an email, make tea and sit down.
2:21 p.m. I hear a soft voice coming from Tiny Human’s room. Sleep talk, maybe? One can dream. Gosh donuts! She’s giving her best rendition of “Let It Go”, again with the singing? Please excuse me while I cry into my tea.
4:39 p.m. Tiny Human has been somewhat calm the last couple of hours, not much to report. We decided to go out for a quick walk before cooking dinner. Tiny Human likes to collect rocks and step in mud puddles. It is a good thing Tiny Human is wearing a nice pair of sandals (ha!).
5:11 p.m. Tiny Human refuses to come inside the easy way. I physically remove Tiny Human from the outdoors.
5:16 p.m. Tiny Human dances to “Uptown Funk” repeatedly. I cook dinner.
5:57 p.m. Dinner is prepared. We are having shrimp tacos. Tiny Human slathers the body with black beans and begs to be held by me. It’s cool Tiny Human- I think it’s about time I changed into my pajamas too.
7:40 p.m. Bath time was a success. I am giving story time my all, but Tiny Human is climbing me like a tree trunk. Thanks for the “massage” Tiny Human.
8:45p.m. Tiny Human is finally sleeping peacefully. I continue my dream of Tiny Human siblings briefly until my eyes hone in on the play room. Apparently the Tasmanian Devil has been here. He must have let himself in.
9:35 p.m. I reflect on the day. Tiny Human is odd. A strange creature from a faraway planet that operates in ways I haven’t begun to understand, but Tiny Human is also cute at times, even occasionally gentle and sweet in a way. I wonder what tomorrow will entail, half full of excitement, half stricken with fear. My eyelids grow droopy. Suddenly weary from the weirdness/moscato- I throw myself down on the bed like a toddler in tantrum, snuggle my blanket and drift off to sleep just like Tiny Human. The only difference is…I didn’t cry for my mommy first.
