By Heather O.
Little Sister and I were outside this afternoon, playing with the hose.
“Unh?”
Me, “You want to go in? Okay, let’s go inside.”
I pick her up, she screeches, flailing like a dying fish. I bring her in, put her down, and she throws herself on the floor, bonking her head on the wood, which sets off fresh wails.
“Okay, let’s get these wet clothes off, and then some food. You hungry, you want some food?”
She stops wailing long enough for me to peel off her clothes, and then I put her in her high chair. I pull out a juice box and show it to her.
“Do you want some juice?”
She giggles maniacally, claps her hands, and holds them out, with an accompanying, “Unh, unh, unh!”
I open the straw, stick it in the juice box, and hand it to her. She sucks with glee, taking a break every now and then from her beverage to flash a toothy grin at me. I sigh and walk to the computer.
Seconds later I hear a small splashing sound, and turn to see her dumping out the entire contents of her juice box on the tray of her high chair, and then banging her hands in it as hard as she can, still giggling as bits of apple juice splash on her face, her chest, and dribble to the floor. Maggie the dog is busily lapping up these dew drops from heaven.
A few seconds later, and her laughter has turned to a siren-like wail, continuing on one note as she throws her head back to maximize the ear splitting sound coming from her small person. I run over to her, thinking Maggie has somehow hurt her. Why else would she sound so pathetic?
“Are you okay? What happened? Did Maggie bite you?” I check her legs for any telltale bites. The wailing stops and turns to giggles again as I stroke her legs. Finding no injuries, I tickle her feet for extra effect, kiss her on the nose, and walk away. The wailing begins, and I turn back. She giggles. I sigh. Again.
“Are you all done? Do you want to get down?”
“Uuunh! UUNH! UUUNHH!” she grunts, sounding like an angry sloth. (Do sloths get angry? If they do, they sound like that.)
I pull off the tray, dump the apple juice into the sink, unclip her, and pull her off the high chair and deposit her on the floor. She immediately clings to me, wailing again. I walk over to the pantry, dragging the child who is holding onto my legs, and get down the cookies. I hand her one. She smiles. I hand her another one. She smiles broader, immediately releases my legs, and stares at the cookies.
She is now wandering through the house, naked except for a diaper, double fisting vanilla flavored Jo-Jos.
I hope hubby comes home soon.




You mean it doesn’t get easier as they get older? My 9 month old and I are doomed.
Comment #1 by KrisOctober 21st, 2008 at 3:25 pmIt does get easier eventually, at least my 4 oldest did. Mine youngest is almost 3 and I’m anxiously awaiting for her to get easier.
Comment #2 by KathyOctober 21st, 2008 at 3:42 pmOh it totally gets easier.
Comment #3 by The WizOctober 21st, 2008 at 3:54 pmI’m still waiting for the easier… this is totally life with my older two. The youngest is a little easier since he’s not mobile yet. But it’s good to be reminded that at least I’m not alone
Comment #4 by VadaOctober 21st, 2008 at 4:25 pmIt does get better. I didn’t believe it when I was told that, but now that Abby can talk at 2 1/2, doing things with her is actually fun. We went to lunch today, in an actual restaurant, and she was civil!
Comment #5 by Tracy MOctober 21st, 2008 at 4:46 pm…this is nothing. Wait until they are teens!!
Comment #6 by KateOctober 21st, 2008 at 6:04 pmI’m with Kate. I yearn for those kinds of conversations. The days of appeasment by cookie are coming to an end my friend.
Comment #7 by wbprawOctober 21st, 2008 at 6:46 pmI usually resort to M&Ms rather than cookies, but this scenario is strangely familiar.
Comment #8 by FirebyrdOctober 21st, 2008 at 7:55 pmAlthough it’s nice to be able to tell a teenager if they want a cookie to go bake it themselves! (they may not do it - but you can tell them
Comment #9 by MommomOctober 22nd, 2008 at 2:47 amI think toddlers are specifically designed to train us to let go of the less important things. After all, you know you’ve learned something when you turn around, see apple juice getting splashed around with graham crackers or worse being ground into the mix all over your freshly-mopped floor, and simply smile and turn right back around again.
Comment #10 by SilverRainOctober 22nd, 2008 at 6:35 amMy kids are *much* easier as teenagers than they were as toddlers. We called them screamin’ demons when they were small. Most people, when they describe a difficult small child, describe someone like my second kid. But my third kid was 10 times worse. But it did—and it does—get better.
Comment #11 by Susan MOctober 22nd, 2008 at 6:53 amWell, look forward to many many days of grunting and maniacal mood swings.
Comment #12 by JustRandiOctober 22nd, 2008 at 8:48 amBut one day at least she’ll be able to reach the cookie jar by herself.
I’m with Kate. Little kids are tougher to deal with physically because they tire you out. Teenagers suck all the life out of you emotionally. My mom has always told me that as your kids get bigger, so do their problems.
Comment #13 by JewelsOctober 22nd, 2008 at 11:08 amThis sounds like life with my 2 1/2 yo. There’s a LOT more words instead of the grunting, but the doing-what-you-think-they-want-and-getting-yelled-at totally happens. And the messy eating. And thinking they want to get down (because they clearly communicated that) then getting screamed at then pacifying with a double load of treats……..yeah. Sounds like you’ve been watching surveillance footage from my home.
Comment #14 by wonder womanOctober 22nd, 2008 at 12:45 pmI was a very easy teenager, and according to my mom, I was much more difficult as a toddler. I think it all depends on the kids’ personalities, and the parents’ strengths and weaknesses. Personally, I think I will have an easier time of things as my children get older, at least if they continue to take after me. But, maybe I am just naive.
Comment #15 by aprilbOctober 22nd, 2008 at 12:47 pmYeah, aprilb, I thought that too. I honestly believed it. I hope it turns out to be true for you, but it certainly didn’t for me!
Comment #16 by JewelsOctober 23rd, 2008 at 11:59 am