This post started from a comment on Karen's blog until I realized that I, perhaps, had a little more to say than just a passing comment. (Eh-hem)
A book, perhaps. Or, a series of books.
As you know, I've been studying the younger set for a little bit now and, well, I've come to realize that I'm absolutely clueless.
I just don't get it. I'm starting to think jumping off the rooftop in front of a tractor trailer would be more pleasing at times.
Like when one of my girls stuffs her mouth with all of her snack, and her sister's so that her mouth is so filled a milky slobber dribbles from her lips and onto the clean floors.
Or, when they pull out the claws over a booster seat. No, silly, not the OTHER booster seat. I'm talking about THAT one, the one that isn't the OTHER one that looks EXACTLY like it. The one that is worth SCRATCHING an eye out over because it's NOT the other one.
Or, why they will chatter all morning about going outside or going in the car, but the second we're supposed to actually GO OUTSIDE OR GO IN THE CAR, they are suddenly no where to be found or found sheepishly hiding atop the stairs, waiting. And, by the way, no amount of pleases, come heres or threats work. My butt has to go. upstairs. and. get. her. Rinse and Repeat on some mornings. Some. Very. Bad. Mornings.
And, then there's this: It's perfectly fine to get soaking wet after, oh, a half hour playing in dirty water outside, but if a single drop of water gets on her shirt sleeve while washing her hands in the sink all bets are off, and so is that shirt. Or else. There is no reasoning, either. Just. Remove. Shirt. Rinse. Repeat. Five, maybe Six. Times. A. Day.
But, toddlerese isn't the only thing I can't translate. I don't really understand husbandese either these days. You know, when he tells me that I'm worrying "too much" and I respond with your not worrying enough. But, I'm considered to be "attacking" and this is why he's harmed for life you see. (I won this one, by the way.)
No, I'm not really understanding people right now. They are all too wishy-washy for me. No one can make a decision, yet no one likes any of my decisions.
So, yeah, life is feeling a lot like being in another country, and I do not speak the native language.
Thank you for visiting today.
Did you like this blog post? Please consider subscribing here:
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
No Hablo Toddlerese
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
14 comments:
love this!
my little ones drive me bananas with their water-play-shennanigans.
I can't handle *more* laundry than I already do!
Sometimes we're in another country and sometimes we come home--once in a while even if there is screaming in the background.
You know, lots of folks think it's difficult to parent an autistic child, but I often find my son easier to deal with than my daughter, because he's so predictable.
His need to have things just so may not always make sense to me, but it's very consistent. My daughter on the other hand needs things just so in a different way every minute. Drives me out of my mind sometimes.
Describes my house perfectly. I find myself saying frequently to Jon, "Stop talking. They're not listening."
Sounds like you are heading for a melt-down, love. :-)
Just let them run around in diapers, no laundry required. Give them two snack bowls, no sharing required and um....give yourself at least a two hour headstart before you actually need to leave the house. lol Oh, and make all the decisions yourself, don't take it personally if hubby doesn't like them just say "if you can come up with a better idea, we'll do it your way."
Then look in the mirror and tell yourself what a fabulous job you have done so far being a mother, wife, writer, friend and that's just that!
ps (bubble bath and glass of wine!)
Perhaps the language you don't speak is "Two" in which there is only one phrase. "No." It can be liberally translated as "Whatever you want, ask, try, coax, encourage, connive, or try to convince me to do, I won't." When you look at it this way, it turns out that we all speak the language of "Two" fluently without realizing it!
Shannon: How little you know me after all this time. Of course they have their own bowls. She eats hers quickly and then steals her sister's ... and leaving an hour ahead of time doesn't help because she'll do it then, too. It's not that we're late ... it's that I'm ANNOYED. : )
LOL...wow, how...resourceful of her. All I can say is, she is not the one you're going to have to worry about in life. :-)
I just tagged you at my blog. :)
Hang in there! I'm sure you'll start understanding after a while ... or at least you all will come to an understanding.
I second shannon's prescription for a bubble bath. You need some *you* time.
If there is a class on the language, please sign me up.
Rinse and repeat. The story of my life, these past two and a half years. Sometimes it's dirty water and sometimes it's bubbles. But it's always REPEAT!
I know what you are talking about and I only have one toddler...
What I find hard is going from having a 15 year old that thinks its ok to want to spend the night at her friends house (who happens to be a boy) and dealing with all that then having to switch to a three year old who does all the time wasting things they do. It hurts my brain sometimes.
BUT I know it gets easier in some strange way.
So hang in there...
Katherine
Hang in there! Someone (or maybe it was in a book I read?)told me that when your children start to drive you crazy, is when you know that they love you! I would say it gets easier, but well, it doesn't...once you think you have them figured out, they are on to something else. But on a positive note, you will look back at it one day and laugh!
Hang in there...and like Shannon said, drink some wine!
Great post....too, too, true. All of it!
Post a Comment