No one thinks I'm funnier than my toddler. He's a great boost for my self-esteem, and there is no better sound in the world than a child laughing. (Okay, that's a lie, children laughing can also be the creepiest sound in the world. Remember Chucky?!?)
Everyone thinks her child is special (and yes, every child is special). Many parents think that their child is "advanced." They think their child is oh-so-freaking-perfect. And then that oh-so-freaking-perfect child becomes a TODDLER. And that's when the said perfect child stops shitting rainbows, and instead...paints the walls with their own shit and says, "Hey look! A rainbow!"
One of my dearest friends just had her second baby. She messaged me desperately saying, "Mayday, mayday, I need your advice! How was Cole with the new baby? I'm pretty sure my toddler hates me! Message me back, or better yet—write a blog post on the topic!"
Hello, my name is Jen and I'm the mother of a two-year-old who is addicted to trucks.
He eats, sleeps, and dreams about trucks. Excavators, backhoes, front end loaders. He knows all the names, and all of their parts. Shanks, stabilizers, and blades.
At bedtime, I draw pictures of various trucks on his back to help him fall asleep. I get in trouble if I accidentally draw wheels instead of tracks. I can never remember which truck has which, but he sure does.
NOTE: As I write this blog post, I have a sweaty six-week-old baby sleeping on my chest as I sit reclined awkwardly in my computer chair.
The past six weeks since Maeve was born have been hectic and awesome. I rarely get dressed before 2pm, and I don't remember the last time I wore my hair down. Bras are optional these days, and I maintain my hygiene by bathing with my kids. Glamorous, I know.
My mom is a self-proclaimed Kijiji addict. She loves to find a deal for anyone in need of a deal. If you even casually mention that you might be looking for a new chest of drawers, she'll send you an email with a link to her finds the very next day.
It's part of her morning routine: Wake up. Coffee. Kijiji.
We had strategically booked our kitchen renovation to take place when we were out of the province for 10 days on our glorious cross country summer vacation, while my parents (who live with us, remember?) stuck around and acted as Project Managers. Perfect. Done.
"So what's the deal with first birthday parties anyway?"
Seriously. Why do parents go SO CRAZY over FIRST BIRTHDAY PARTIES? I honestly don't get it. Yes, the first year is a huge milestone—and so much HAPPENS during that year, yes. But why oh why do we have such elaborate and crazy parties for our babies?
