Certain nameless toddlers and have mastered Velcro (thanks for showing her how it works, Mother Magoo!) and now can take their diaper off. After Baby Flails-a-lot's last nap we went in to find that she had taken off a shit-filled diaper, smeared it all around, and thrown it over the railing of the crib. And then she peed everywhere just to make sure we got the message. This prompted a melt-down on my part and a zen baby-cleaning on Husband-cat's part. I was so angry I couldn't even speak. I know people are all, "Oh, they don't do it on purpose" but then, neither does the iron maiden as she crushes the life out of you.
After a certain amount of impotent fury, there was nothing to do but rage-clean while a loop in my head repeated, "This is some ole bullshit. BULL. SHIT." I said the same to a newly clean Baby Flails-a-lot, but she was too busy loudly banging Weebles together to hear me. I'm now going to Google "electric underpants for toddlers" and see if I can't invisible fence-ify her diaper. Zap! Zap! Ha ha ha, motherfucker.
What can I say, I have those crazy-person "Why are you persecuting me!?" moments with my baby. Week before last I spent hours making a big Korean dinner which left the kitchen like this:
Right before we sit down to eat, Baby Flails-a-lot throws grand-mal hissy fit. No food, no milk, doesn't want to go to bed, blah blah blah. By the time we got back to our meal, everything was cold and I was hot and bothered in a very unsexy way. These "Are you fucking kidding me? Leave me alone for two seconds!" moments are worse because you know you have to suck it up until you can constructively deal with it. This is why even though I make fun of parental stupidity it is with the realization that at some point everyone hates their kids. What separates the strong from the cruel are those that constantly work to separate the intent from the result and never, ever let that anger get on their kids, either by zenning out or at least leashing the inner beast momentarily.
Crazy anger aside, Baby Flails-a-lot has been cracking me up with her oh-so-serious moments lately. She marches around the house, staggering from side to side in her none-too-steady gait, face serious, flinging toys about like a little walking catapult. God knows what she's thinking but she is very, very intent on it and does not always appreciate our laughter. We can't help it, she looks drunk with power; a diminutive demi-god whimsically smashing the inhabitants of Weeble town into oblivion.
We laugh and she looks at us as if to say, "Don't you know lives are stake? Fools! Begone!" and goes back to Hulking the Weeble tree house over her head. That said Weeble house is as big as her is irrelevant. It must be done.
Visit me on Pinterest and Flickr and follow me on Twitter!