So you want to get to know me? I don't know my last name or where I live or my phone number but I'd like to introduce you to the adults in my life.
Interview with Mama:
Me: What exactly is your problem?
Mama: I don't have a problem but you need to watch your tone. You smell like poo. Did you poo?
Interview with Grandma:
Me: Hi Grammy Grams
Grandma: I love you sweet baby
Me: I love you, too.
Grandma: You look so skinny. Are they feeding you?
Me: No they're not.
Grandma: My poor angel.
Me: I know.
Grandma: Do you need cookies?
Me: Yes grammy.
Grandma: What kind would you like me to make darling?
Grandma: Chocolate chip?
Me: You know me so well, gram grams. Come over anytime, we we'll be here. Not at the park.
Grandma: My poor angel.
Me: I know.
Interview with Daddy
Me: Hi daddy!
Daddy: Please tell me where my wallet is.
Daddy: Where did you put it.
Me: How tall are you?
Daddy: I need to know.
Me: Are you part giant?
Daddy: This isn't funny.
Me: You have so much hair on your body. How does that make you feel?
Daddy: I'm going to give you one more chance.
Me: Or what.
Daddy: (staring at me) (walks away)
Interview with Grandpa
Me: Hello grandpa.
Grandpa: What's on your face? Have you been eating lotion?
Me: Yes. Were you born before fire existed? How old are you?
Grandpa: Older than you can count. Where are your clothes?
Me: I took them off.
Grandpa: (stands up and walks away rudely)
I recently read somewhere (I think the Bible) that you can't blame ignorant for being ignorant if you refuse to help them stop being so ignorant. With that thought in mind, I've decided to write down a few recipes to make mealtimes easier for all of us.
Both of you seem to be confused concerning what a "meal" is. Meals aren't supposed to be punishment, they are supposed to be delicious. Do you understand? Please let me know if I'm going to fast or blowing your mind open.
Dinnertime is hard for all of us and I know why: you have terrible recipes. I've compiled several of my favorites below. Please print them out and put them on a fridge using a magnet. When it's time for cooking, follow it and don't get creative.
Honest Toddler Approved Recipes
1. Toast with Butter
Hold on to your seat! This is a yummy one!!
Step 1: Find an unbroken piece of perfect bread with no rips.
Step 2: Put in toaster. Don't get distracted by a Facebook fight you have no business participating in.
Step 3: When toast pops out, INSPECT IT. Is it a uniform golden brown color? Is it still intact? If not, return to Step 1.
Step 4. Butter toast liberally.
Step 5: Ask toddler how he or she would like toast prepared or cut. Don't make assumptions. You don't know anything about anything.
Step 6: Serve toast.
Step 7: Has toddler changed their mind about toast? Does toddler want cut up toast to be whole again? Repair toast with your mind. If you're not powerful enough, return to Step 1 AS MANY TIMES AS IT TAKES DON'T BE LAZY
2. Pasta with Butter
Mmmmmm! This is will be a hit every time!
Step 1: Make pasta on the stove using a pot and steam or smoke.
Step 2: Put pasta in a toddler-approved small bowl.
Step 3: Put in lots of butter. Don't be shy or cheap.
Step 4: Mix it up properly.
Step 5: Blow until it's the right temperature. We will be very angry if it's too hot. VERY ANGRY.
Step 6: Do we have juice?
Step 7: Resist the urge to add spices or parmesan cheese which is not actual cheese but very small flakes of dry cheese and disgusting. If there is something wrong in your head and you try to add a puree of garbanzo beans or nutritional yeast you are not ready to be a parent.
Step 8: Serve pasta.
Step 9: Accept graciously that your toddler may no longer be hungry or may want toast (*see recipe above).
3. Crackers and Cheese
Step 1: Find an appropriate box of crackers. Ritz and Saltines are both OK. Crackers with visible seeds are NOT.
Step 2: Select 7-8 unbroken crackers. Place them on a plate.
Step 3: Select a normal, non-artisan cheese like mild cheddar. Cut squares that are all the same shape. Don't let cracker crumbs stick to the cheese. Please take some pride in your work.
Step 4: Serve with juice in front of shows.
Step 1: Find a good cereal. Good cereals have pieces that are all the same (ie. not granola). If you are a wonderful parent, you own a cereal like Corn Pops.
Step 2: Put cereal in a toddler-approved bowl. Ask the toddler before pouring if the bowl is OK.
Step 3: Ask the toddler if he or she would like milk.
Step 4: Pour milk.
Step 5: Serve cereal.
Step 6: After toddler has eaten 1-2 bites, throw away cereal without sighing or having a bad attitude.
Step 7: Pour 1 cup or dry cereal into a ziploc bag.
Step 8: Give to toddler to eat around the house and in front of shows.
Congratulations! Now you know how to cook for that special toddler in your home. Remember, the kitchen is not your personal science laboratory wherein family members are forced to consume your failed results. That's pretty selfish, no?
If you get confused about cooking, ask grandma. She has many good recipes including but not limited to chicken nuggets.
I love you. xoxo HT
What happened was I couldn't remember my password. I kept trying and Wordpress continually rejected my efforts.
I began beating and kicking the computer for several minutes. Nothing. I cried on and off for the rest of the day.
When the computer worked again, I yelled at it. Nothing. I put it under a blanket. When I returned, my password still didn't work.
I then placed three slices of mandarin orange very close to computer as a gift. Still nothing. I whined for approximately 45 minutes and it ignored me.
Finally I reset it and now I'm able to blog again.
Thank you for understanding.
It's taken me a long time to write to you. For awhile, I was angry. Devastated that you broke things off. But I'm past that. We had good times. So many good times. <-- I whispered the second "so many good times."
You were there for me when no one else was. Rolling in the deep as Adele might say. I could never find someone like you. We had no instruments, no violins no harps but somehow we made beautiful music day in and day out.
Remember, oh my gosh, remember the, haha, remember the time when you did the impersonation of the bladder? "Baaaaby!! You're crushing me! Urine is coming out!" I laughed so hard I got the hiccups. *sigh*
Thank you for just being you. So soft. So warm. Like cream of wheat on a winter's day.
Placenta, I'd be lying if I said I didn't think about you all the time. I know it wasn't all roses. You put up with a lot of my crap. Literally. Thank you for the waste elimination.
The morning you and I went our separate ways...I'm not going to lie, I cried. It felt like how breaking glass sounds. Like the Monday of all Mondays. It felt like finishing a restaurant meal and then seeing an eyelash in your plate. Like when someone shakes your hand and theirs is wet. Sometimes you know it's just water from washing up, but still.
I miss you, placenta. You know I have to eat now, right? Chew and everything. New tastes every day. What I wouldn't give to spend an evening with just you and a couple glasses of amniotic fluid. No pressure. I'm just...
Look, I-....this is hard...I know it's none of my business but...are you with a new fetus? Is there a baby in your life? Never mind. I was out of line. Who you feed is up to you.
I look different now. Older. More mature. I've been through a lot. I'm in a relationship with a couple...it's not really working out but I don't think I have many options. They're just not you.
Anyway. *deep breath* I just wanted to reach out and let you know that I haven't forgotten what we had.
Say hello to umbilical cord if you see it. We had something for a little while after you left. Rebound thing. A piece of it stuck around on my stomach for a good five days after things went bad...STAGE FOUR CLINGER! LOL.
Hit me up sometime.
I must have asked for assistance for a solid couple of hours. My screams were probably documented by homeland security. These weren't normal yells either. Only Christina Aguilera and I have ever reached those notes. During the evening (well, morning), my parents experienced a range of emotions that I call the 7 Stages of Night Grief.
1. Shock & Denial
It always starts the same way. "Did baby just cry or was that a nightmare?" Sorry Biggie, this is not a dream and you never read Word Up magazine. Real life.
"Maybe if we pretend we didn't hear it, it'll stop." LOL. Um, like a fire alarm? This is happening. The faster you acknowledge it, the sooner we can mount this crazy horse and let the games BEGIN.
2. Pain & Guilt
I can see their wheels turning.
"Maybe it's legit this time? Maybe the jewelry made from dried tree nectar isn't working the way Etsy promised." "Are you cold? Is this room haunted?"
Toddler, if you can, look to the ceiling and say, "They keep talking to me." I did that once and my dad nearly fainted. Not even kidding. He wobbled.
Remember: Your parents don't know what's going on with you and don't want to risk ignoring a potential real issue. Random barfing is always in the back of their minds, as is having to explain themselves on 20/20 to the nation.
Barbara Walters: So, you did hear your child crying. And you ignored your young. Why?
Mom (in prison garb): Well...uh...I just...I didn't...*tears* I'm so sorry...
Barbara Walters: Daddy. Did you not hear your precious angel?
Daddy (in a straitjacket): Rack city *mumbling something inaudible* hello kitty *twitching* sippy cup cheese.
3. Anger & Bargaining
These are actually two very separate stages. We'll start with Bargaining because it always happens first.
"Go to bed. We'll have popsicles in the morning." The second sentence is always said in a fleeting, off-hand manner while walking away because no one wants to admit they're in negotiations with a child.
It's important to pretend to agree to whatever terms have been offered. Let them walk to bed feeling like a winner. Then call them back.
That's when anger comes. You'll hear it. One parent will literally jump, fly, out of bed. They're not excited to hear your voice. It's rage. It's critical that you assume the cutest face you can muster up at this point. There will be furious whispering. Open your eyes wide and just nod. If they *help you* lay down, scream like you've been body slammed across the room.
4. Depression, Reflection, Loneliness
This is where you'll notice a longer length of time between your calls/cries and the appearance of a parent because they're in what I call a "My Chemical Romance Sea of Emo Sad." They're thinking about life before you, trying to calculate how much an au pair would cost, wondering WWGRD (What Would Gordon Ramsay Do) and if your grandparents would consider joint custody.
At this stage of night grief, your parents are drowning in the reality that they have not slept well or consistently in several months/years. They may or may not use a smartphone to post a Facebook status that simply reads, "FML."
Take this opportunity to empathize. Then throw everything out of your bed. Fitted sheets can be tricky to remove, but keep at it. Start at the corners, not the middle. Are you naked? You should be. Now jump. Jump up and down. Let some pee pee drip out.
5. The Upward Turn
Most parents reach this stage. It's where they stop taking shortcuts and start giving in. You'll get new socks. Possibly a fresh diaper. Hall light turned on. Maybe a cup of milk. Back tapping for sure.
If you hear the car starting and are still in your bed...sorry...these things happen...
6. Reconstruction & Working Through
This is where you'll get a little conversation in a normal tone. No Mel Gibson rants or Ursula voices. Calm & steady. Relax your body a bit. Lay down if you feel so inclined. Stop kicking the sheets off. It's almost over. Ask a few questions about what's on the agenda tomorrow. One of more parents might crack a smile at this stage. The kiss will feel genuine.
7. Acceptance & Hope
Your parents are fully awake. They have hope. Not hope that you'll actually go to sleep, but that their local 7-11 is stocked with all of the legal uppers (Five Hour Energy, Caffeine pills) that they'll need to make it through the day.
Congratulations! You've helped your loved ones navigate through the seven stages of night grief. Let the devil know that you've upheld your end of the bargain and that you expect to receive jelly beans in the mail shortly.
I haven't seen you in about a week which is fine. Maybe you have something better to do than watch your sweet baby bloom into life. :(
This past week was difficult. I just wanted to update you on what has been going on here and happening to me. Please see below.
1. Numerous unexplained time-outs.
2. Lentils for lunch. If you don't know what lentils are, they're rehydrated squirrel droppings or acorn shavings, I'm not sure.
3. She spoke to me rudely at approximately 4:45PM on Thursday.
4. No park on Friday at all.
5. Pants daily.
6. VERY few desserts. None of them chocolate related.
7. Two more of my puzzles were thrown away.
8. I found three of my DRAWINGS in the kitchen trash.
9. We're out of red popsicles.
10. Asked daddy for an ice-cream sandwich at 2AM on Saturday. He laughed at me.
11. Mommy succumbed to peer pressure and ran away with friends. She returned hours later as if nothing had happened.
12. Six boo boos, one band-aid.
13. Stranger came into the house and accused me of toilet related crimes (I've never seen those washcloths in my life).
14. A big dog bit me in the face. OK that didn't happen, but what if it did? Think of how terrible you would feel.
Can you guys come by and check on me? I'm very, very hungry. Please bring more chocolate chip cookies. Maybe we can go to the park or the drive through. I'm not picky.
Awaiting your reply. love HT