WOW! I just want to say that I slept wonderfully last night. Woke up once crying, mom walked in and said "Nuh uh, can't do this again," scooped me up and brought me in the BIG BED where I slept in V, T, X, and L formations. At one point my foot was under my daddy's chin like I was frozen in a street fighter kick. YES. I considered damaging his esophagus with one swift upward motion just because I can but realized he's the only one that can throw me into the air. And I love him.
Hope she doesn't think this was a one time thing. Do it once, do it every night. TODDLERS NEVER FORGET.
My mom always thought she was going to be more of an attachment parent. She wore me in a carrier until I began routinely angrily bucking out of the thing so that I could run like the wind towards traffic. Her approach to breastfeeding was shamefully lackadaisical. BEFORE AGE 1 she let a little lacerated nipple get in the way of our beautiful milk-based relationship. If a child can't cut their teeth against their mom's flesh, I ask you, where can they cut them? Where? Maybe giggling like a psychopath after each nibble was too much.
She even dropped a small fortune on cloth diapers until she decided that she'd worked too long and too hard to spend any significant amount of time scraping my pasty corn poo into the toilet.
She'll be the first one to admit that cosleeping is deliciously cozy for the first hour until I'm spread out like a mid-meiosis amoeba leaving my parents 20% of bed to share LOL.
I'd describe her parenting as "attachment when convenient." Unfortunate. I know.
This morning I saw an important question.
AH YES! Many a parent would love to know why we regularly push them to the limit with wild, unpredictable and oftentimes frustrating behavior but magically transform into calmer, more mild-mannered versions of ourselves for grandparents and babysitters.
Isn't it obvious? We know that for the most part you're genetically predisposed not to toss us off of a cliff when we work that last nerve into the ground. The same can't be said for those who aren't in parental roles. I'm not going to lie down on my back in the middle of a grocery store with someone who hasn't day dreamed about me their whole lives. That's crazy. Best case scenario, you'll give in and buy the breadsticks I desperately need, worst case scenario, you'll throw me over your shoulder and take me home for an afternoon of Umizoomi. A non-parent would probably wash their hands of the situation, say "Screw this little brat" and leave without me. Just keeping it real.
We toddlers have surprisingly advanced survival skills. We store food in our mouths, hoard supplies, and because of our small stature in comparison to adults, rely on being able to predict the behavior of the giants amongst us.
I do not, I repeat, DO NOT, derive any satisfaction out of being "good." My only commitment is to being myself and responding as I see fit to external stimuli. At this point the only people I trust to deal gracefully with me are my parents. And although they joke about putting me on eBay har har (call 911), they need someone to handle their final arrangements.
They'll even make the occasional desperate excuse for my zoo-like code of conduct, "Oh, HT is just tired. Or hungry. Or wired." Wired. Because that's a real thing.
So when your child's preschool teacher or aunt gushes about how "sweet" your little one was for them know that it has nothing to do with wanting to please. It's about staying alive. I'm not being good. I want to see the sun rise again.