Tuesday, January 15, 2013

You are the weakest link. Good-bye!

I was prepared (ha!) for Toddler Flails-a-lot vulnerability when she was little. Babies are tiny wrinkled blobs. It makes sense that you need to protect them from the elements. Then they get bigger and enter the I-can-run-into-walls-face-first spirit of toddlerdom. I was a bit aghast at this turn of events, but I was game. After all, this is a phase. She very firmly screams "no" when the subject of pants comes up, but whatever. Older will be better…I thought.

Cut to the playdate I hosted recently. Six toddlers, one eight-year-old and two mothers. It was like watching a herd of puppies with a death wish. They tumbled all over each other, knocked their heads together, fell off chairs, and tried to feed each other/gouge each other eyes out accidentally. You know, the usual.

The eight-year-old was there with her three-year-old sister. I left them playing in Toddler Flails-a-lot's room with some other toddlers. I came back to find Big Sister jumping up and down on an ottoman we have, clearly enjoying herself. It's basically a collapsible storage cube that usually houses toy spillover. I don't think anything of it, she's firmly holding onto the crib for balance. I grab some baby wipes and turn to leave.

Big Sister: "I put my sister in the box!" (leaps about three feet in the air and slams into the ottoman)
Me: "Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaah! Why would you do that?!"
I snatch her off the cube and rip it open. Sure enough, her little sister is squished into a ball inside.
Me: "Gaaaaaaaah! Are you okay?"
Little Sister pops up, laughs in my face and jumps out the cube. She then tries to climb back in.
Little Sister: "Hahahahahha! I like the box! Do it again!"
Me: "NO! No more box! Don’t do that anymore!"
Big Sister: "I'm going to steal your knees!"
Me: "I said n---wait, what?"
Big Sister: "She likes being in the box, why can't we do it again?"
Me: (nonplussed by the knees segue) "Because I might have a heart attack, that's why."
Big Sister: "No you won't."
Me: "Maybe not, but my head might fall off."
Big Sister: (shocked) "Has your head fallen off before?"
Me: "Not yet, but you're getting me close. It's going to fall off and roll around the room. Then what will you do?"
Big Sister: "I don't know." (leaves the room, thinking deeply)

Me to Toddler Flails-a-lot, who wandered in at some point: "Take as long as you want to get older. I can wait."
"Preparing for the future!" - poster issued by the Post Office Savings Bank, c1957 - artist, P H Huveneers
(image via  mikeyashworth's vintage collection on Flickr. 
Poster by Post Office Savings Bank, c1957. Artist: P H Huveneers)

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  1. yikes... guessing there is never a dull moment in that house! :)

    1. Yep, it's amazing what little girls get up to when they don't know their prescribed gender roles. "You two! Be delicate and retiring!" *smash* *crash* *scream*

  2. I wondered how that event "went". Three year olds did you say? I hated three. My husband reminded me I didn't like five either. I must have repressed that. But never forgot that three took me by surprise. The ottoman bouncing eight-year old story. Hysterical. I can say I never did or will host a party as such. Good story about the only one I attended and then swore them off.
    Thanks so much for the laugh Ms. Ish.

    1. Glad you enjoyed it. Changed my view of aging. I keep forgetting there's madness at any age...


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