Here’s a truth that a mom to a large family knows, but doesn’t say out loud: It is EASIER to have all the kids at home, than to be left alone with toddlers.
Diva and the middle Minions went out for the afternoon. Library time! Yes, we’re a rowdy homeschooler bunch, woot woot!
Wolf had some errands to run.
So, that left me alone with the two Terror Toddlers.
You wouldn’t think that would be a challenge, after all, that’s less people in the house to manage, right?
Wrong. So, so, wrong.
First of all, there’s TWO of them, and ONE of me.
And toddlers have no respect for…well, anything.
While I’m chasing one, the other is off to destroy, devour, dismember whatever it is that’s caught his interest.
Mostly, it’s Cubby. In one afternoon of Cubby’s Reign of Terror, we had:
1. “Let’s show Mom the bottle of water I found!”…by dumping it all over the computer desk. Followed by him shrieking like he was being beaten when I took the now empty bottle away, and cleans up the puddle. He wanted to play in that. Mothers. So ungrateful.
2. “Phew. Who stink—ARRGGGGHHHH! DON’T TOUCH ME!” this is when Poocasso struck. I have a nose, thanks. I don’t need a visual aid. “Beware toddlers bearing gifts,” is all I can say.
3. Call to Wolf: “Where’s the duct tape?!” Because Poocasso can undo a diaper in 3.2 seconds, if the duct tape isn’t applied. Wolf says, “I thought at least one of them would be napping by now.” I laughed maniacally at him, and hung up.
4. Catch Cubby attempting to open a can of coffee. Shove can in pantry, secure with child lock. The LAST thing needed is for this boy to have CAFFEINE.
5. While getting Boo a juice cup, catch movement out the corner of my eye. It’s the foot of my footie jammies, disappearing around the corner. Investigation shows Cubby, 3/4 of the way into his crib. With my footie jammies. He’s actually doing a head stand, with his feet waving in the air, and giggles when he spots me. I turn around and leave, because it’s not dangerous, and I really don’t want to know what plans he has for my footie jammies. Plus, I have a vague hope that he might fall asleep. Nope.
6. Insist on using Bazinga the Wonder Dog as a couch. Now, this wasn’t something that before I would’ve objected to, since she seems to enjoy it, but now that we know she has hip dysplasia, not a good idea. Commence more howling and shrieking when Bazinga goes outside, to keep her from being inadvertently hurt by enthusiastic Cubby hugs and cuddles.
7. Wolf comes home. I point at Cubby and announce, “THAT ONE.” He already starts snickering. I relate the afternoon’s events, and his response? “Wow, we’ll have to be careful about leaving you alone with the toddlers, or we’ll come home to find you duct taped to a chair, with half your head shaved.”
Yep. More than likely. I have no illusions about these things.