2 years old
Category

  • I Really Don’t Want To Be Alone

    Usually when I put The Munch to bed I lay her in her crib, say “sweet dreams,” and she then sings herself to sleep. It is a pretty low maintenance process with little drama or variation.  But the other night after I left her room, she started weeping and calling for me.

    Munch: “Mamma!! Mamma!! I want you!”

    Toni: “Munch! What’s wrong??? Why are you crying?”

    Munch: “Mamma, I want you.”

    Toni: “Well it’s time to do night night and I will see you in the morning.”

    Munch: “But nooooooo I want you! Don’t leave me.  I don’t want to be alone.”

    Her comment impaled my soul.  “I don’t want to be alone.”  The reality of the human condition -that ultimately we are all totally alone.

    So I brought The Munch into my bed for a cuddle, and she lay on my tummy as I stroked her back.  After about 25 minutes I figured I should get her back into her own bed, because I had important things to take care of. Like watching TV.

    Munch: “No Mamma no… I don’t want to go to bed by myself.  I want to sleep with you.  I don’t want to be alone.”

    What I wanted to say to her was “Munch, you are already alone.  Even when you are around people, ultimately you are still alone.  No one can live in your head, and fully understand your thoughts.  No one sees the view through your eyes.  No one can feel through your heart, and know the nature of its love or how broken it may be.  No one can experience the world through your skin or understand the pain of your existence.  No one will ever truly know what its like to be you, and you are completely trapped in the consciousness of yourself and the body that contains it.”

    But…. I had this strange feeling that she wouldn’t feel better if I said that.

    Toni: “Listen Munch. You are never alone.  You have so many people in this world who love you, and their love is like fairies that follow you everywhere.  You will forever be connected to that love.  When you are by yourself, the love fairies come and sprinkle love dust to remind you that you in fact are loved, and therefor never alone.”

    Pretty good right? Well I had to come up with something… I really wanted to watch some TV.

    (I feel you Munch)

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    July 2, 2013 • 2 years old • Views: 2683

  • The Mental Anguish and Internal Suffering That is a Birthday Party

    The Munch had a family birthday party this Sunday, and I think it kind of melted her mind.  She has known for months that her birthday is July 2nd and has been preparing for her party ever since the idea got planted into her brain.  But I think she was mostly excited about the cake.  There was a lot of talk about cake.  And an excessively passionate dedication to eating said cake.  Followed by an extreme need to make sure some cake was saved for tomorrow.

    Although I think The Munch enjoyed herself, the whole event also seemed emotionally exhausting.  Any time there is anticipation for something grand, there is a depression attached that is as stealthy as a firefly trying to rob you at night.

    Before her party The Munch was in a state of anxiety and stress as she waited for whatever was in store, and then after her party there was this malaise and melancholy for all that had been.

    It reminded me of all the New Years Eves, Valentines Days, Birthdays, Christmases of my past, and how so many of them were punctured by confused emotions and existential anguish.  How nothing is ever what you expected to be, and even if it is really lovely, the fantasy of what we conjure will always taint what is.  That it is impossible to truly find pleasure in anything you anticipate.

    Or maybe I have my period so my hormones are fuming to the point where I feel like peeling out of my own skin to torture all beings I come across with my bloody rage, and I am just projecting.

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    July 1, 2013 • 2 years old, Adventures, baby brain, Behavior, Musings • Views: 4266

  • Maybe Being High is Really Fun?

    Call me old-fashion, but I don’t let my 2-year old do drugs.  Even though I am well aware that drugs can be amusing, I am pretty sure it is frowned upon to let your kids indulge in mind-altering substances.

    Because I am such a square, so far my child’s life has been a sober one.

    I try to minimize her exposure to temptations.  I force The Munch to subsist on kale and quinoa , so she doesn’t get a lot of treats or yummies with sugar.  The most wild I get is letting her indulge in a granola bar.  I know.  Shit be getting crazy up in here!

    But every one in a while The Munch gets offered sweets by other people, and when those opportunities come she is on it like brown on brown rice.  Her sexy baby sitter brought her a chocolate the other day and Munch was so excited her eyes almost ruptured out of her face.

    She ate the chocolate with such delight and savored it for almost half an hour.  Taking tiny little caterpillar sized bites so as not to rush the experience.  When she was done, The Munch was high as fuck.  She was talking fast, running around, getting grand ideas about the future, wanting to start a band with me….  It reminded me a lot of my party days of the past.

    I really do think sugar is a type of drug, and just like drugs when it becomes an addiction it’s problematic. But I am not villainizing drugs or sugar – just the way it is overused and abused by humans.  People often turn to substances as a way of avoidance, and an unhealthy dependency can form.  But watching Munch made me remember that like drugs, sugar in moderation is fun as fuck.

    The Munch was as happy as a fish in the rain.  It was like her life was suddenly in Technicolor and she was the girl with kaleidoscope eyes.

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  • Can’t I Just Be A Big Baby?

    Although kids are cute and all, they can also be as irritating as an over used fuck hole.  Everyone is always telling me to “appreciate every moment, they grow up so fast!” Yeah yeah yeah… Even though I know this to be true, and the years may be short with your child – the days are long.

    But I don’t blame kids for being annoying.  Children are in a constant state of growth, and that is exhausting.  They are having to learn new things daily, and are expected to adapt that knowledge while more and more input is flooding their tiny, still developing brains. It’s hard enough for me to learn someone’s name.

    I think one of the hardest things about being a toddler is the transition from being an infant into a child.  The Munch has actual memories of being a baby.  She recalls me holding her all the time, and having everything done for her.  But now she is expected to “be a big girl” and do things on her own.

    On the one hand I am sure being capable of new things is empowering for The Munch. That she enjoys her new found freedom of being self-sufficient.  But at the same time, being a baby kicks ass.  If I could live my life as one big baby you better believe I would.

    I feel like The Munch is nostalgic for those times and it manifests with this one constant request that she makes every day of my life:

    Munch: “Carry me Mamma.”

    Toni: “Munch, you are too heavy.  You’re a big girl now.  You can walk.”

    Munch: “NO CARRY ME!!!!!!”

    Toni: “Dude, it is like 700 degrees out.  If I carry you my arms are going to melt off.”

    Munch: “But Mamma, please carry me! I LIKE TO BE CARRIED!”

    Well I do too kid… I do too.

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  • My Daughter The Dictator

    My kid is one bossy bitc….uhhhhh person.  I think she was a dictator in her past life… and by past life I mean this one.

    The Munch has an opinion on just about everything.  She has to choose her outfit every day, and gods forbid I try to slip on Minnie Mouse underpants when she wants Daisy Duck.  The Munch even tries to command what I should wear and whether or not I can roll up my sleeves.

    Maybe you are thinking that she is just really into fashion but getting dressed is just the first activity of the day.  It goes on from there into every facet of our existence.

    Munch: “Mamma, are you going to eat some oatmeal like me?”

    Toni: “No Munch I am fine for now. I am going to have some water first.”

    Munch: “No Mamma, have some oatmeal.”

    Toni: “Munch I am okay. I am just thirsty right now.”

    Munch: “NO MAMMA HAVE SOME OATMEAL!! HAVE A BITE!!”

    Toni: “Okay okay…” (So I pretend to take a bite and kind of fake her out… or so I think)

    Munch: “Are you eating it?”

    Toni: “Yes!”

    Munch: “You are chewing it all up?”

    Toni: “Yes Munch.” (I am still pretending to be eating the oatmeal)

    Munch: “OPEN YOUR MOUTH! LET ME SEE!!!!”

    Sometimes I take The Munch for a bike ride where she sits in this carrier I drag behind me.  As I am sweating like a whore in church trying to get up the hill, towing my princess in her chariot, The Munch starts shouting orders and conducting how I ride.

    Munch: “Mamma, go faster up the hill.  Faster.  But don’t stand up! Sit back down!! Put your bum back on the seat okay? Sit down but go faster.  Now Mamma, go slower down the hill.”

    The other day my brother came over and was chilly.  I offered to get him a sweatshirt, but the Munch wouldn’t let me give him one.

    Munch: “NO MAMMA NO!! THAT IS YOUR SWEATSHIRT!!”

    Toni: “But your uncle Laszlo is cold and he wants to borrow it.  Do you want him to be cold?”

    Munch: “YES!!! I do want him to be cold!”

    There are times when we will be sitting and cuddling, and The Munch will start orchestrating exactly how I position my body and hold her.

    Munch: “No Mamma, don’t cross your leg.  Put your foot here.  Don’t let your head be floppy! Put it on the pillow. But not that pillow, that’s my pillow.  And hold me this way! Don’t hold my legs. Now tickle my back!”

    Although having someone try to choreograph your every move is exhausting, I also respect The Munch’s leadership skills.  Maybe she is prepping to be a politician, or CEO one of these days?  But a politician who isn’t corrupt and greedy (but can totally have sex scandals) or a CEO for an organic-free range-fair trade-sustainable-eco aware-non toxic company of course.

    (My lady in her chariot)

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  • My Kid Annoys You

    When you bring your child out into the public people usually have two reactions.  Either they are charmed by them, and look at your child fondly, or they are seriously annoyed.

    I have been on both sides of this.  Sometimes just the sight of a child warms my heart.  I watch them interacting in their imagination, and am moved by their mere presence.  And other times a kid being a regular a kid makes me want to tackle them and tie them to a pole.

    I remember one time I was hanging out with my godson and his mom eating lunch.  This was long before The Munch, and my godson was the closest I was to any child.  I loved the crap out of him, and had been a huge part of his short life, but he kept touching me with his gross little food-infested sticky hands.  I guess I was giving his paws the stink-eye when his mom noticed and said, “Seriously, what is wrong with you Toni?” I guess she was pretty fucking offended.

    I get where she was coming from… You never want someone to look at your child with contempt.  Looking back at that moment I feel like a monster.  But his hands were really yucky!!

    Its hard for me not to notice when someone is irritated by The Munch.  Not to say that she can’t be frustrating as fuck sometimes, but there are other times when someone is just bothered by her regardless of her behavior.  She could be regular kid stuff like playing, running, or touching your face incessantly with hands coated in maple syrup.  I see when someone is watching her with that look on their face that reads “why doesn’t the mother of this wild beast do something?”

    But to be honest, I am not going to intervene every time I think The Munch might be getting on someone’s nerves. If I don’t thing what she is doing is truly obnoxious, or genuinely vile, I kind of think to myself “fuck it.”  Maybe it is part of that person’s life path to deal with the inconvenience of the existence of children.  I don’t want to over moderate her every move, and unless he is being a total dick, why not just let her live her life?

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  • 10 Reasons Never to Grow Up

    1. So you could pick your nose without shame
    2. If you really wanted something, throwing a tantrum would be a viable option towards getting it.
    3. You get carried around whenever you are tired.
    4. When you fart, people make up pet names for it rather than saying “ewwww gross, go do that outside.”
    5. So you could cry in the middle of the store if you wanted cookies.
    6. Getting sleep is a major priority to everyone around you.
    7. If you take off your pants in public people think it’s cute rather than offensive.
    8. To be able to go around with food on your face and no one would consider you a slob.
    9. So jumping would seem like fun rather than annoying exorcises.
    10. So I could swing on a swing and not want to barf into my hands.

    reasons-never-to-grow-up-blog-(i)

    June 21, 2013 • 2 years old, Musings • Views: 2453

  • Maybe I Don’t Want To Play Doctor With You

    You know how kids play pretend right?  Well even though I don’t do that any more (except every time I get on Facebook and pretend my life is perfect), when I spend time with The Munch it often involves me entering into her world of imagination.  She gives me her dolls or stuffed animals and makes me talk for them, as I become a character in her very elaborate vision.

    Let me just get this out there before you go much further.  Full disclaimer.  The mind of a two year old is pretty demented place to enter into.

    The Munch is into role-playing situations that have happened to her.  So if she and I had a conversation about patience, and I tell her how she can’t cry and demand to have things “right now” all the time, she will then make her baby cry and be told she has to be patient.

    Okay, that seems pretty benign. Internalizing life lessons by recreating them under circumstances she has control over.  I was fine with this, and a willing participant.

    But yesterday things got kind of surreal.  The Munch was having me be her bunny, who she said was sick and needed its eyes fixed.  Alright.  She did at one point have pink eye, so I figured this material was inspired by that memory.  The Munch was telling Bunny its eyes had yellow stuff and needed to be cleaned. So far, pretty accurate.

    While looking for something to wipe the bunny’s eyes, The Munch found a thermometer.  I am not sure how she knew what one was, considering I hadn’t used one on her for over a year, but she did.

    Munch: “I am just going to take your temperature Bunny.  So turn around so I can put it in your bum.”

    Okay, so that was how I took her temperature, but again, this was a long time ago! I mean I guess children have wayyyy better memories than we think they do.

    Toni: “Okay Munch, but you have to be gentle when taking Bunny’s temperature.”

    She looked at me, and at first was gently placing the thermometer on Bunny’s bum.  But then she started maniacally laughing and sodomizing poor Bunny!

    Toni: “Munch that is not gentle!’

    But she didn’t care and kept laughing! And that is the story of when The Much anally raped a bunny.

    anal-rape-of-bunny-blog-(i)

  • Do You Think It’s Possible To Change?

    Even though change is the only constant in life, doesn’t it seem impossible to change as a person? Just the thought of changing feels exhausting.  It is hard enough changing my underwear let alone my whole personality.

    But we all suck, and need to change all the time for other people. You have to change for your parents, friends, lovers, employers, employees, and even your child.  Anyone who is around you for more than 1 hour a day is going to ask you to change.  Because lets face it, we are all really annoying.

    The idea of changing is overwhelming.  I am not a fucking caterpillar.  I don’t know how I can just change from one thing into another. I don’t even know how to make a cocoon or what I would construct it with.  Would organic goat feces work and wouldn’t I smell kind of funky when I emerged?  Who am I supposed to change into and where is the old me going to go?

    I feel like the concept of change is so esoteric and intimidating that people often feel they can’t.  “I can’t change. This is who I am.  Can’t you just accept me for me?” Nope. Probably not.  Because you are a big poopy pants.

    Then I realized something.  Thinking that the concept of “improving” is only accomplished through “changing” is totally counter-productive.  You already have the person who you want to be inside of you, the key is being that person more often.  So rather than thinking of being a totally new you, be the best version of you most of the time.

    Every person has good in them- kindness, empathy, caring, and consideration. You have been that before and can be that again.  Even serial killers are nice sometimes to some people.  So rather than focusing on change like you have to be different than who you are, be yourself.  Just the 2.0 model of you.

    (Even thinking about changing makes me have to lie down)

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    June 19, 2013 • 2 years old, Behavior, Family Drama, Mommy Mind, Musings, Relationships • Views: 2697