Am I the only mother who needs a drink by 11am on a Sunday morning because as you were getting ready for church, your toddler decided to (possibly) swallow her earring and then throw a ridiculous tantrum because you asked her to tell you what happened?
Yeah, thought so. It is just me.
I could recount all of the steps that led to that fateful I-NEED-JESUS-OR-A-G*DAMN-DRINK moment--right when we finally got in the car to go to church, but really, does it matter? As someone said to comfort me, I have a two year old.
The Hub hears my complaints and stares as if I am speaking jibberish, then he defends her by reminding me that she is a two year old. Yeah. MOFO I know how old she is. I was there when this chick was born (it was my vagina, by the way). I am here with her all day, every day when her two year old shit riles up and becomes these ridiculous tantrums at the worst possible moment.
You are here for all of the cuteness.
You are here when she empties out each of her toy boxes that Mommy has organized and sorted according to type...and then barely plays with them. You are here when she takes every crayon and draws all over everything, except for your stuff. You are here when she drops and spills food all over the floor leaving a residue of sticky shit all over said floor that you never sweep or mop because you fear that she might impale herself on the broom handle (by the way, I'm convinced you don't actually know how to use either a broom or a mop, but I digress). You are here for the chaos that you allow her to leave behind for Mommy to clean up.
So let's get something clear if y'all want this child to see three: Mommy will not live with two chaos Muppets!!!
No, I am not raising Animal. Or Oscar (because this house will not be a fucking trash can for the rest of my life). Or Elmo (who is not perpetually cute). At some point, this Toddlersaurus needs to get it together or she and her beloved Pushover Papi can go live in the shed.
Who's buying the next round?
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