This was a real live conversation between my friend V and her almost-three-year-old daughter, T, and it doesn’t get much better than this.
Here it is, two days after Thanksgiving. The holiday season has officially begun, and with that, the season of holiday parties and eating. At the same time, we will hear people cursing their own appearance. “I feel fat.” “Ugh – so fat!” “I ate so much!” Blah blah fishcakes.
Is it especially true among mothers? Maybe not, but the effects can be quite far reaching, because the kids pick up on it.
TW – Rape, Sexual assault
A friend of mine posted a request for advice about what to do to get sleep while her 10 month old sleeps in the same bedroom. Daughter is starting to keep mom up through the night, and my friend is desperate for sleep.
Ah, how I remember those days. Rather, I remember them for their fog, not so much for what we did. At the time, it felt like it would never end, though looking back, it seems like just a blip in time.
I don’t think I’ve ever talked about our bedsharing story, so I’m going to now. Because we stepped into it quite unintentionally.
- You can’t say the words “cracker,” “apple,” or “banana.” She hears the mere suggestion of these treats and suddenly she is hungry and only one thing will do.
- You spend 50% of your day crawling, either on your knees or a bear crawl. Just me? It makes Wee One shriek with laughter, and has become my go-to tantrum diffuser.
- “We don’t eat off the floor.” Is a statement that comes out of your mouth several times a day, as you scramble to pick up the scraps she just dumped off her plate and is bending over to eat. She won’t eat it off the plate, but from the floor, it’s awesome.
- If you leave her field of vision for a short length of time, chances are good you have started a game of peek-a-boo. Sometimes I’m not paying attention, and I realize WO is giggling at me and hiding behind her hand, and I feel guilty for not noticing sooner and letting her hang. Fortunately, she’s forgiving about my lapse and her laugh is so gleeful when we play.
- You find a small hand creeping down your shirt multiple times a day. I think that’s just for breastfed babies and – what? It doesn’t stop at one year? I heard about this, but it is starting to get to the point that when she’s upset, she doesn’t need to nurse, she just needs to reassure her they’re there. Then I can say “cracker” and she’s not upset anymore.
She’s the best.
Inspiration taken from Things Anxious Mom Said. See what she put!
Wee One is a toddler. So truly a toddler, and it’s only going to get more toddler-y as she goes. I’m more afraid of this phase than any other, I think. I’m afraid I’ll lose my patience or my way, that we’ll lose our bond or connection, and that we will start a lifetime of not liking each other. I wanted to keep positive details about toddler in my mind. To this end, I googled, “in praise of toddlers,” and sadly, didn’t find much.
So I’m writing something.