It’s already the 4th of January and I have not even thought about Resolutions. Who has time for that anyway? Not parents of 2 year olds.
I’m busy attempting to get Baby Girl to sit on a toilet and pee pee. I resolve not to have a heartattack when she pees on the floor instead. I will remind myself that at least she didn’t pee on an indoor play slide at a public facility. (Shout out to GWR! You are my hero).
We’re over here trying to learn not to spit food out in mama’s hand or on the floor when she doesn’t like something and to throw it in the trash can instead. I resolve not to gag over chewed up peanut butter crackers in my hand.
Baby Girl enjoys pulling out toys that I just put away 5 mins ago and strew them all over the house. She will literally follow me around while I inanely pick things up and grab them back out of their assigned locations exclaiming NO! MINE! MINE! TOY! I resolve to wait until Baby Girl is asleep before attempting clean up of any type in order to avoid a meltdown. Hers or mine.
I resolve to buy stock in the Chobani yogurt company and to sell said stock the instant Baby Girl decides she hates yogurt and always has. Which of course will be when the yogurt market is in an upswing (thereby paying for her college education) and I have 1,284 boxes of yogurt in the fridge. Too bad it’s not gold bars. Or chocolate.
When making an effort to do something with Baby Girl’s crazy head of hair I resolve to try to be more patient and empathetic to her pleas of OW OW OW NO NO WAAAAAAA when I’m yanking the tangles out of her hair. As she squirms and wriggles and slides away from my weapon, er, hairbrush. I will more often ignore the rat’s nest on top of her head and discard those dreams of perfect plaits and bob-curls and pony tails.
I resolve to spend more time reading with Baby Girl and taking long bubble baths by myself. I will find more fun things to do with Baby Girl that are not in my own house – thereby reducing the magnitude of the wreck and my own madness. However we will avoid indoor play slides for the time being.
And finally, I resolve not to lose my shit entirely over the never-ending drama that accompanies getting dressed in the morning and getting undressed at night. I know, Kid, I don’t want to get dressed in the mornings either. But not wanting to put PJ’s on at night? Come on! That’s the best part of the whole day! How is it torture for you? It’s just a control thing, isn’t it? You’re just trying to make me crazy, aren’t you? Can you pleeeeaaaazzzzzeeeee make it simple just this one time? Sweetly and silently let me change you? I’ll give you chocolate! Promise. Cross my heart and hope to die. Yeah ok it’s a control thing. I get it. Someday you’ll be wearing a bra. Then you’ll know.
