BEHOLD! The faces of LoLo.
It’s a survival thing. You can’t possibly want to extinguish your own offspring after they climb into the pantry for the 42nd time in 2 hours when they are this adorable.
I’ve documented this phenomenon before.
Lowell is perhaps SO adorable (I mean, yes, I’m biased, but that surprise face is everything) because he is SUCH AN ASS KICKING.
I can. NOT. not watch him every single minute. It could mean disaster. Sure, he could just sweetly play with his cars and “beeg chucks!” on the couch for an hour OR HE COULD ALSO TRY TO QUIETLY CLIMB IN THE OVEN.
And because I just NEVER know with him, he must be constantly supervised.
Bottom right picture of that collage up above is of Lowell at Kendall’s first football practice on Tuesday. I had the beginnings of a cold, because of course since it was also the 2nd day of school and the first week I’d get any time to work. Bitterness aside, I cheerfully took Kendall to his practice with Lowell in tow and a bag full of snacks.
And then I discovered it was a 2 hour practice because we live in Texas, and truly I should know this much by now. I’m a fool for thinking it would be one hour and we would be home in time for dinner and bedtime. That is only the plan for you yankee sissies who do not care enough about training your 7 year olds to play football.
(If this post makes it to Kendall’s football coach, please know I don’t hold this against you. I’m drunk on cold meds right now and the sarcasm is strong. I feel this disclaimer is needed because there’s been a shocking increase in community members who now know I have a blog and are reading it, but I don’t know if they realize I’m a genuine smart ass, and I swear I try not to talk this way in front of my children. That is why I have a blog. In theory.)
So instead, I spent TWO HOURS… wait, that’s a lie, we were late… ok, ONE AND A HALF HOURS chasing Lowell and preventing him from running onto the field to snatch footballs, flags, soccer goals, cones, and random bottles of water he intended on infesting with his trail of snot.
And this whole week I’ve been fighting this cold, while trying to keep him alive. Literally while trying to keep him from running in front of cars and jumping off of kitchen counters while I ran a fever and did that sweat, shiver cycle that should really only be experiences while in bed.
Naturally, this was a week Scott was traveling for business.
But back to toddlers.
I can’t talk long because mine is awake and I must go retrieve him and the follow him around until he blesses me with a nap. In the meantime, know I’ll be repeating nonsense like this.
I try to document it on my @ThingsIActuallySay Instagram account. When I get time. Like, the 15 seconds between setting him down in the playroom and retrieving him from the top of the bookshelf.
It’s not going so well. But he’s cute, so there’s that.
Please, comfort me with all the ways your toddler is also kicking your ass.
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16 comments
I too have to constantly supervise my two year old. If I turn my back, she is trying to climb bookshelves, the cabinets, standing jumping on the back of the couch or the time I caught her trying to swing Tarzan style off the front hall bench while holding onto the straps of her brother’s backpack. Just to name a few things.
If I ask him to do anything he does not wish to do, he quickly folds his arms in front of him making a noticeable slap sound, furrows his brow and YELLS “no” at me. Like seriously, yells. Then stands there frozen until he gets his way or runs the opposite direction, sometimes this is basically into the street, which sure makes for a fun time when I’m 8 months pregnant.
Pregnant while parenting a toddler is a certified form of torture.
I wish I could post the picture of this…Last night my one year old climbed into the sand table. Not a sand BOX. A sand TABLE. I literally took my eyes off him long enough to sip my tea, and when I looked back he was standing in the sand.
Well, let’s see. Do we live in an 80’s sitcom??… because trying to slide down the stair rail is a new thing. Holding my hand in public leads to epic meltdown…I guess he’s just too cool. Then there’s that awesome toddler bed that we just finished and bought all new bedding for to make it look super inviting. Yea, not sleeping there, but it’s fun to rip the bedding and stuffed animals and thrown them in the middle of the floor. Good times. And the grand finale…a screaming shitfit in Chickfila because chicken nuggets cannot be consumed in the tube of the slide in the playroom. Yes, that really happened.
Surely you realize us sissy yankees only have football for the guys who couldn’t make the hockey team. On the toddler front, my 3yr old went full Braveheart and painted her entire face blue in an attempt to sabatoge her first day pic at pre-school. But I had the last laugh, pre-school started a week later this year. She needs to learn to read a schedule.
Jude bit Myles on the ass Wednesday night after bath time. Literally bit him on.the.ass. And then when I fussed at him. He grinned. For like 5 minutes. Toddlers, man.
I am guilty of not supervising. If there is a thump and a scream afterward, I knew they were conscious. If there was a thump and no scream, but more noise, I knew they were conscious. I say “they,” but it was really just the “he” child. The first child was easy and good and a girl. The second child was the one that chipped 3 teeth and had 2 concussions (while I was inches away) in a 3 month stretch from 15 to 18 months. I quit watching. He’s 7 now. We’ve made it this far. He’s learned to read and write, so I know he didn’t hit his head too many times. One minute at a time. That’s all you have to make it. One minute at a time.
Sadly, my “toddler” is now four-and-a-half and still kicking my ass.
My toddler, in the 2.5 minutes it takes me to get a book for my preschooler out of the adjoining room, climbs INTO the bathroom sink and turns the water on, soaking himself and the bathroom floor.
I left my husband in charge of my terrorist toddler and his 4 year old brother while I ran errands. I came back home to find the toddler on the kitchen counter handing donuts down to his older brother with a loud clicking sound echoing through the room. The sound? That would be the gas stove he crawled over to get to the donuts. My husband? He was sitting in the backyard with his parents. After I turned off the gas and lost my mind in front of my in-laws he exclaimed that they were gone for less than a minute. And I completely believe him! Could have easily happened to me.
I was letting my 10 month old air dry after her bath for like 2 minutes. In the 20 seconds I turn my back she took a dump on her brothers carpet. While I was trying to clean that up, she decided to go into the bathroom and play in the toilet water. I know she’s too young to be blamed for anything, but it was just one of those “Murphy’s Law” parenting nights..Ugh.
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