Tag: #toddlersrule

The Dingaling

I love little kids.  I love it when they say absurd things. Their curiosity and enthusiasm for the now mundane things is refreshing.  I’m jealous that they get to have tantrums and say what they want.  People frown upon that as you get older.  Let’s face it watching a 40 year old woman screaming and kicking on the floor because her ice cream is too “melty” is apparently not ok…. sorry again Baskin Robbins…. 

 I love and hate their uncensored honesty.  And I especially love watching their personalities come to fruition.  When my now 4 year old M was 1, my husband and I were scared that she had no personality.  Which if you know her, you know how laughable that thought was.  We would play peek a boo, act super silly and nothing.  Nothing!  And we are pretty funny people, well we like to think so anyway.  It was kind of a blow to our self esteem.  She just seemed unimpressed with us most of the time.  Fast forward a few years and she is probably one of the funniest kids I know.  And that says a lot.  I like to think she was just studying us back then.  I have to give her credit, this girl has the quickest wit and the best one liners. 

Like most sleep deprived beings, I like to start my morning with a cup of hot coffee.  However, I never get to enjoy it hot.  I swear the moment the coffee is done brewing my children can sense that I am excited about something.  Maybe it’s the rich aroma of happiness wafting through the air that awakens them, who knows.  This particular morning my sweet M comes down and crawls into my lap and burrows her tiny self into my body.  I give her a big hug and kiss and say “Good morning love!”

“Good morning mommy.”, she replies with a big yawn and her sweet stinky morning breath.  We sit a rock back and forth for a moment before she pops up and grabs my face. 

“Mommy?”, she asks. 

“Yes M?”,  I reply as I take a sip of cold coffee.

“Can I see your dingaling?”, she asks inquisitively. 

I start choking. I set my cup down, trying to swallow back my coffee as best I can without it seeping out the corners of my mouth.  I finally catch my breath.  “What did you say?”, I ask mortified and praying that I misheard her. 

“Mommy, I want to see your dingaling!”, she asks again with an air of annoyance.  

Now something told me not to react how I wanted to react.  Because I’m assuming your mind is where mine was right then.  Before I could form a coherent sentence M gives up on me and turns to her father.  

“Daddy, let me see your dingaling!” she demands. 

My husband’s face fell and froze. I could see the range of thoughts going through his head like mine. 

“M, why don’t you show us your dingaling?”, I ask calmly. Trying to suppress my own horror.  

“Okay!”, she says gleefully. She then proceeds to open her mouth and points laughing really hard.  “See?”, she squeals.  “See, it dingalings!!” 

Oh my good gracious, thank you Jesus. M had discovered her uvula.  So naturally my husband and I obliged and showed her our dingalings as well.  She was thrilled. We are still working with her to use the proper name.  And don’t worry her school has been notified as well. 

Hairy Situations with a Side of Streaking

I don’t know if this is normal for everyone else, but I have to completely prepare myself the night before for outings the next day.  Going out into public with my three (O is 5, M is 3 and C is 20 months) is insane.  I often feel like I’m preparing for battle.  Coffee maker is ready. I have the clothes laid out, ready to go.  The shoes are by the door.  The diaper bag is fully stocked with the essentials and snacks of course, to help the hangry melt downs.  Water bottles are ready to be filled and I have in mind what breakfast is going to be.   I have them covered, but I can’t tell you how many times I’ve left myself uncovered.  Bra, what bra?? Damn it! But come on this is motherhood.  No matter how prepared we try to be things are always chaotic.  Or is that just me? 

I called my mother today on my way home from the girl’s haircuts and had the discussion of, is this normal or just my circus?  When we get to the salon I find a parking space right by the front door!  Score, one it is a 100 degrees out and two I don’t have to dodge other cars with the kids.  I get the kids inside and run into my first obstacle, the giant glass bowl of mints.  O runs right up and dives her hand in. 

“One! Just one!” I yelp as I’m hanging onto M by the armpit, as she decides to go limp and dump out her Daniel Tiger backpack full of ABC blocks in the elegant entryway.  On the other side I have my hand tight around C’s leash.  Okay, time out, don’t get high and mighty with me.  C is wearing a super cute bright pink butterfly back pack, that she loves, and it just so happens to have a little leash attached on the back of it.  She gets the feeling of freedom running around and I get the feeling of reassurance she won’t get hit by a car. Win win.

O gives me a furrowed brow and grabs a couple mints.  “One is for M!” she justified.  A nice older gentleman sees my peril and helps M put her blocks back in her bag.  I sincerely thank him and make my way back outside to the court yard to my stylist suite.  The one thing I have going for me, is that it’s a small courtyard with no other exits.  It has a beautiful water fountain in the middle and lots of pretty plants.  The other suites have big windows looking out into the yard.  When we get there, the girls excitedly move into her suite.  Shoes are taken off, The Grinch is starting on the IPad and snacks are being distributed.  O quickly unwraps her mint and shoves it in her mouth and climbs up into the chair.  Everyone is engaged and being good.  So I stupidly take a relaxed breath.  You know what that means. 

As I’m watching O get three inches of her hair cut off, I hear a big gush of water followed by a startled tiny scream. My stylist and I both jumped and turned around to see M standing at the shampoo bowl on the chair, being pummeled with water by the hose.  The stylist quickly turned off the water and I assessed the damage.  M looked like she just took a causal stroll through a car wash.  So I stripped her down to her pull-up and cowgirl boots, and mopped up the mess.  In the meantime as I’m wiping up the floor, I notice C isn’t watching The Grinch.  In fact she isn’t in the suite at all.  Shit! My heart starts to race once again and before I can completely panic I see the end of the pink leash stuck in the door.  I run over to the door and look out.  She is leaning forward like she is flying, being supported by the entrapped leash.  I grab the end and open the door.  She is quite pleased with herself for escaping, well kind of, during the chaos.  Sometimes I wonder if these two plan these moments. 

I pick up C and set her back by the movie. Then I turn around to see a naked toddler in a pull-up and cowgirl boots run by, giggling uncontrollably. Wait, NO!!! That’s my naked cowgirl giggling toddler! I run out into the courtyard to get her and of course she thinks this is the best game ever.  As I’m chasing her I can see people coming to the windows laughing really hard at this spectacle.  I finally catch her and M says “Yay mommy you did it! I’m so proud of you!”  Thanks M.  We finally make it through the haircuts.  Did I mention my stylist is a saint for putting up with us?  As I’m trying to pay, C is rearranging all the product on the shelves.  M is trying to climb the chair to get a cup of coffee and O is just staring in the mirror, posing with her fabulous new hair style. 

We make it all the way to the entrance with no more incidents and I think we are in the home stretch, I mean I can see the car out front, when M takes off for the stairs.  Did I forget to mention that M is still only wearing a pull-up and cowgirl boots during all of this? O see’s the giant glass bowl of mints and heads over to grab some more. I start after M, as I’m yelling “No more mints O!” However I forget that I have a small little person attached to me by a leash and starting dragging her along with me.  The receptionist jumps up to help me out and grabs M, as I’m trying to help up poor little confused C. 

“Please let me help you out to your car.  I see you have your hands full.” the receptionist said kindly. 

“Thank you so much and you have no idea.”  I replied.