I have a real toddler.
My first two kids weren’t “real” toddlers. Evidently they went through the toddler stage, but they didn’t really ACT like toddlers. They just kind of hung out. I’ve never bought those drawer or door locks or done any “toddler-proofing” (what a stupid expression).
This one, though? This Georgia character? She’s the real deal.
And holy crap my friends, this is a lot of work.
I spend most of my time averting disaster.
If she can reach it, she pulls it over. On her head. On the floor. On the cat.
If she’s in the bathroom, she’s inspecting the toilet bowl brush.
Or the trash.
She’s climbed into the dishwasher. Onto the kitchen island. Attempted entrance into the fireplace. And will leave through any opened doors.
Gets stuck under tables. Gets inside bags, baskets and boxes.
Wedges herself into all accessible small spaces. Then screams.
Topples head-first into items she’s attempting to scale, such as, the bathtub.
In short, if there is an item in the room that is disgusting and messy or has the ability to choke her or cause some other grievous bodily harm or threaten her immediate well-being, she makes a damn beeline for it and if I’m not RIGHT THERE, there will be disaster.
Not maybe. For sure.
Everything I do I have to do it quickly, because there is a toddler on my tail. She’s gotta be RIGHT up in my business, all the time. If I’m unloading the dishwasher, she’s standing next to me grabbing shit out of it, preferably knives.
And what is she some sort of power crawler? She’s NEVER IN THE SAME PLACE for more than 3 seconds. She’s there. I look away. She’s GONE.
And then I’m bolting around “Georgia!?” (as if she’s some sort of dog that comes when called), finally finding her wrapped in the computer power cords and grinning at me like “What?”
Taking a shower. Always a treat.
Three to five minutes during which I leave the toddler unattended. I usually resort to letting her play with a roll of toilet paper or some other weirdness, because at least that way she’s not engaging in potentially life-threatening behavior and it’s a mess I know and anticipate, which somehow makes it easier.
There is really no way to make toddlerhood easier.
This shit pretty much just bites.
Except for the fact that they’re freaking adorable and are still babies most of the time, cuddling and being fat and babbling and laughing and kissing and perfect.
Well, when they’re not eating the cat’s food.
Or pulling books off the shelves.
Or crawling into the refrigerator.
For the tenth time today.
Because your older kids just can’t seem to figure out the whole refrigerator-door shutting phenomenon.
Let’s just look at a picture. To forget.
Or maybe, to remember.