While I wilily while, Erin stubbornly stubs.
I think I hit my head on some low, overhanging, dark matter the other day.
Erin, Erin, quite contrarian, how does your garden grow?
“I no like it, garden!!!”
“Ok, kid. I’ll take it away.”
“Garden?? Garden?? I. Want. Garden?”
“Kid, you just said you didn’t want it.”
“I want garden!”
Not really about a garden. But it is about a garden, in the sense that it’s about any damned thing, any arbitrary thing; it’s a general truth that Erin love-hates everything right now. So it could be a garden.
“Ho-ny?”
“Kid, I’m telling you. There’s a ‘g’ in that word. Also, you just threw your food across the room, so I don’t believe you.”
“Hung-y? I want dinner?”
“I’m not falling for it again.”
At bedtime it’s a struggle into pajamas, then some quiet time with some milk that she doesn’t drink; she just holds the cup tightly against her chest, pretending to sip every few minutes. Half an hour later and she knows it’s time for bed.
But I’m not finished with the milk, guys. You can’t put me to bed until I’m finished with the milk.
She understands this pattern, but not the reason for it. She has mistaken a correlation for a cause. You do it too. Don’t pretend you don’t. Toddlers reason fallaciously.
A fanatical protest against bedtime, and I hold her in my arms as I click the light off all by myself. Tonight she doesn’t offer to help, so I have to figure it out on my own.
“Milk? Milk? I want milk?”
“No, kid. You so didn’t want that milk two minutes ago.”
“Thirsty? Milk? Water? Water?” Anything? Can I have anything, guys?
I admit, I cave a little. Maybe she is parched. I give her a sippy cup with some water in it, and lay her down in her crib.
“Goodnight Erin.”
“Daddy! Daddy? I want out? Mommy? I want owuht!”
“Goodnight, baby girl. I love you.”
I close the door behind me, then endure a fifteen minute list of demands from the leprechaun-sized terrorist in the next room.
“No milk! No water! Water? Yes? Daddy? I want piggy! I want bunny? I want lion. Want giraffe.”
Most of the items on her list are, in fact, in the crib with her. I hold out.
I stay silent throughout the self-destruction happening, the embittered, overtired cries for attention.
Then I hear, I swear I hear, I swear I hear my frustrated, darling daughter, my overtired offspring, complain:
“Fucking bunny.”
Then silence.
20 comments:
Laughing.
I don't know who I feel more sorry for. You and Em for being held hostage by a devious leprechaun tyrant or for the little devious tyrant herself.
It's gonna be a tough road growing up with a daddy who is an expert in critical thinking.
Having had the um, PLEASURE *cough, cough* of arguing with you a time or two, I see her future. She is doomed.
Fucking bunny indeed.
The tyranny of a toddler has brought me to my knees on more than one occasion. I gotta say, you seem to take it a lot more calmly that I ever did.
And my 3 y.o.'s newest thing to mutter when he's pissed off about something is, "Shudup." I'm telling everyone that he learned it from his brother. ;-)
Bedtime stalling tactics range from infuriating to adorable at our house. Sadly, age does not prevent the stalling tactics...at least not so far at our house.
And that, sir, is but a small peek into the future. Okay, it might not be a bunny; perhaps it will be a car. Or cell phone... Or whatever the new thing will be at that time. For these things, you do understand, will only change as the child grows. One day it'll be, "Dad, can I have the keys to the car... And some money." You'll decide, "it's a school night, so no" The egocentric teen goes on about how unfair you're being, but you stand your ground. The child turns to head to their room, muttering, yes, you guessed it, "fucking parents"
*names & details withheld to protect the not-so-innocent.
Okay recently I had a rant about the kid bellyaching about being hungry even though he just ate.... when he sees McDonald's or ME holding a cookie, hungry for MY cookie... grrr...
The frustrated kid swearing in her bed.. funny.. huh? Where do they get THAT???
Way too funny. At about 10:00 last night I heard the cries of my 21 month old daughter. I went in and said "do you want your pacifier?" She grunted, picked it up herself and conked back out. That was it.
I love the visual of "the leprechaun-sized terrorist in the next room"
Children are strange beings.
My kid was all, "I can't wike it!" and then once she started pronouncing the L correctly (Yike, of course) she moved on to more mature negotiations.
How about some water, mom?
No, maybe a yittle milk? My yeeyall tummy is fursy.
It's really quite funny, but not nearly as much as Fucking Bunny.
haha! My little one has taken to throwing everything out of his crib when he's mad about nap time. It's only a matter of time before he then starts protesting the fact they're not in with him anymore. Kids, man! Why they gotta be so contrary and shit?
I have so much to look forward too when my son gets older. I fear the day he can talk and thus make demands.
Hahahahaha! I can't wait till she can have her own blog!
We are so in for it when our kid can talk. Thanks for a snapshot into what I can expect.
In my house, I would assume that's exactly what was said, in yours I'm not sure, but it's pretty darn funny.
My ex has a 3 yo old daughter who tells him "Don't start" in a warning voice when she doesn't like any instruction she has been given.
Here's your problem. I think Erin's been spending WAY too much time over at our house and she's learning bad habits from my kids. For this I am so sorry. But know that we are right there with you. It's awful. Fucking bunny, fucking tiger, fucking penguin, I could go on.
Hang in there. I feel ya.
Oh, so funny.
I once joked with my sister that my kid is in her bed, telling her dolls that her mom is a total BITCH.
That was before she had ACTUAL WORDS, godhelpme.
Thats hilarious! :)
Dude - I laughed my ass off when I got to "Fucking bunny." I am seriously wiping tears.
I think I tend to relate to your stories because you refer to Erin as "kid" quite often, as I refer to Gracie as "kid" all the time. (I sometimes notice people noticing me in public calling my child "kid" and I often wonder if they think I've kidnapped her or something. Perhaps I'm paranoid.) There are lots of little similarities that make it so easy to relate to your stories - and that makes them funnier/more heart-warming/more... everything.
Thanks for the laugh. I really needed that tonight.
better 'fucking bunny' than 'fucking daddy'
...it's never to early to learn 'em good.
fucking bunny. i say that exact phrase 10 times a day.
Oh, you are so strong. So so strong. I am bended daily, to my knees, by my current two-year-old. And it isn't like I haven't been around the block a few times. This one, though. whoaaa nelly, she gets me... good!
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