If I drank, parenting a toddler would probably turn me into a raging alcoholic, amen.
August 03, 2012

Yesterday I decided that my goal for the day was to wash the mountain of dirty dishes that has slowly been devouring every square inch of counter space in our kitchen.

I know, I know, me and my WILD dreams.  Try not to die of envy.

So first thing in the morning, I served Charlotte some breakfast and while she watched the squirrels racing to and fro across the backyard, I got started in on the dishes.  I scrubbed, stacked, loaded the dishwasher, then prepared my own breakfast and joined Charlotte.

By then, my daughter was polishing off her blueberries, but because she insisted the night prior that she was MUCH TOO TIRED to be bothered with dinner, she was understandably RAVENOUS yesterday morning.  She asked me if I could give her some granola in a bowl with some cow milk, please.

It cracks me up how Charlotte differentiates which species of animal she would like her milk to come from.  Ridiculous.

At any rate, I said sure, what the heck, granola in a bowl with some cow milk coming right up.  And then, because all of her smaller spoons were loaded into the dishwasher, I committed The Most Heinous Crime EVER and served it to her with an adult-sized spoon.


I would like to take this moment to apologize to every living thing within ten miles of my home who had to endure the forty-minute shriekfest that followed.

Goodness knows that I love this kid.  I adore her in more ways than I can count.  And for some reason, all the big things that I was terrified about handling as the parent of a toddler are working out really well.  But these little moments where she’s melting down because I dared to present her with an improperly sized spoon and I’m melting down because COME ON, IT’S A SPOON, WHY IS THIS A BIG DEAL? CAN I PLEASE JUST EAT MY BREAKFAST IN PEACE? are really chipping away at my sanity.

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  1. By Cambria on August 03, 2012

    They are particular little people, aren’t they?

    The combination of ages of 2 and 4 might drive me to drink… They are great kids, but so much energy and drama. I hid from them yesterday.

    Good luck :)

  2. By on August 03, 2012

    i joke quite often on how “i’ll raise my daughter first, take care of my drinking problem after”
    i know it’s nothing to joke about..
    but i feel your pain oh i do !

  3. By Julie on August 03, 2012

    This. This is exactly how I feel. Lol. It’s really no laughing matter but if I don’t laugh sometimes I feel I will explode. So yeah. Just know you are not alone and someday your memory will skim over all this time with a sort of fuzziness for details.

  4. By on August 03, 2012

    OMG!  I needed this story this AM.  Thank You!

    (And I do hope today goes better.)

  5. By Phase Three of Life on August 03, 2012

    Ah, yes. The illogical tantrums. Those are the best. Ryan once lost his mind when I dared to tear his turkey bacon in half. I’m all, “Dude, it’s still the same amount of bacon… and it tastes the same.. it’s just easier to handle…“

    And then there was the time I tried to give him the red sippy cup instead of the blue sippy cup. He never cared about the color before that day or since.

  6. By on August 03, 2012

    Wow can I relate to this post! I get total freakouts if I don’t read his mind and select the exact bowl my son wanted to use. Then just when I’m at my wits end, he’ll say (through tears), “I want to use the bowl like mommy’s!“ and I’ll feel guilty for losing my patience because he’s such a sweet heart. ;)

  7. By on August 03, 2012



    I feel ya.

  8. By on August 03, 2012

    OMG! I kid you not, I dealt with this SAME EXACT melt down a week ago. I tried to serve oatmeal with an adult size spoon, and our world ended. I now wash his spoons by hand so they are always available, or can be quickly washed. My pregnancy state of mind cannot handle melt downs over SPOONS!

  9. By on August 03, 2012

    been there. lol

    The worst is when it’s OK one day… but the end of the world the next.

    They keep you on your toes.

  10. By on August 03, 2012

    Yesterday we were halfway through lunch when my 2 year old realized that I had the blue plate, she had the red plate, and she WANTED the blue plate. 
    She sobbed unconsolably for the rest of the meal. 

    Lesson learned—give the same plate to both of us!  :)

  11. By on August 04, 2012

    I wait for the day when she asks for mam milk with her granola. Now THAT will be interesting. Lol ;)  I feel your pain. Issac is two, so I’m still at the “trying to decipher what exactly this raging screaming fit is actually about” stage… Lol

  12. By Catherine on August 04, 2012

    dude, I hear you on the spoon thing.  totally.

  13. By on August 05, 2012

    *Sigh* We can all relate. Now finally at almost 4 and 5 years old, I have their preferences NAILED. Color coded, sized right, cut right, served right… etc. Of course, I’m sure now that it’s all good they will change it up and meltdowns will ensue.

  14. By on August 08, 2012

    Jasper is the same way about milk—he’ll request cow’s milk (or sometimes he just says “awesome milk”) or rice milk. :)





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