True Life: I have a toddler

Now that Jack is firmly planted on the toddler side of things I feel like there are some truths that every mom of a toddler will encounter. Below is a tidy list I've started that I think will be familiar to most.

*You will find yourself singing the songs to their toys, even if they aren't currently playing. I have had "Red means stop, yellow means slow, green means that we can go!" stuck in my head for about 5 months straight.

*There will be times that you'll sit down to watch a cartoon/play with toys/read a book with your toddler and it will take you quite some time to realize that said toddler has wandered off and left you there by yourself. I have watched David continue to watch more than his fair share of Wild America episodes by himself.

*Sometimes you will catch yourself saying the toddler version of a word out loud. I'm not really a fan of baby talk, but more than once I've caught myself saying "Uppa" like Jack does instead of "Up". If my entire language skills turn to toddler, please have an intervention for me.

*You will have a new appreciation for clean clothes. I know that once I am dressed for work in the morning it is a matter of time before jam hands/snotty noses/Jack's breakfast ends up somewhere on a piece of my clothing. Those precious few minutes where I look like a person who cares and tends for their appearance are sweet moments that I know are fleeting. I've also reached into the pockets of sweaters or pants and found crumbs from previous meals. I guess it's helpful if I'm ever needing to make a trail back to where I started?

*There will be meltdowns over things that you don't really understand, and most likely those meltdowns will start about one thing and end about another. One honest to goodness tantrum involved me giving him strawberries instead of blackberries. Let me walk through a typical meltdown for Jack:

• Jack wants to play with a super dangerous thing/do something super dangerous and I tell him no and then take whatever it is away and put it in a room where he can't reach it.
• Jack cries and sits outside the door, putting his hands on the door like his lost loved one is inside and he can't get to them.
• I tell Jack that we need to get his shoes and socks on so that we can go to school/church/the store. This makes him feel like I am telling him to sit in a tub of acid and he reflects these emotions with more tears and maybe a dramatic display like throwing himself on the floor.
• I pick him up to get said shoes and socks on and he flails about like one of those inflatables which uses a fan that businesses use to get people's attention and ends up knocking his foot onto the door frame. He looks at me like I have attacked him in some way and wails as loudly as he can while doing a little more kicking and screaming.
• Either he finds some other egregious act that I've done to him or this goes on for a little bit until calmer heads prevail/I give him an ice cube to put on his foot. 

*You will begin to spell all the words that you don't want you toddler to learn or hear when you are talking to another adult. "Maybe we will go get I-C-E C-R-E-A-M later? While he is taking a N-A-P?" or "He is being SO C-R-A-B-B-Y today and driving me - N-U-T-S". It is really kind of sad how long it takes me sometimes to really think through some of the words I'm trying to communicate. The day Jack learns to spell will be pretty bittersweet, I suppose we'll have to resort to pig latin or some made up languages from one of those nerd movies. 

*Every once in awhile I am convinced that my toddler can not hear me. I will say his name repeatedly or ask him more than once to PLEASE STOP WHAT YOU ARE DOING and he doesn't even blink an eye. However, this theory is tested pretty quickly by going into the pantry and finding the closest bag/sleeve of crackers. Just crinkle that wrapper and you'll hear the thud of tiny toddler feet coming your way. "CRACKER CRACKER CRACKER!". There have been times where Jack has been all the way across the house, watching a youtube video with his dad and he STILL can hear those wrappers. I'm pretty sure that qualifies him to be one of the X-Men.

*Lastly, they will drive you absolutely to the brink of insanity, but the second they're sleeping you think about how adorable and sweet they are. GRANTED, some days it takes a few more minutes (OR HOURS, OR NIGHTS) before you get to that point, but so far there has not been a night that I don't think about how sweet he can be and how precious his chubby little face will be in the morning.