Post image for …About The Roles of Moms AND Dads in Caring for Kids

…About The Roles of Moms AND Dads in Caring for Kids

by The Momma on February 10, 2012

The Daddy: Fathers as Childcare According to the Census Bureau-WTF? or Seriously, WTF???!?!??

The Momma: These are the kinds of things that make my head explode. Because OH MY GOD IT IS 2012 WHY ARE WE STILL TALKING LIKE FATHERS ARE BABYSITTING WHEN THEY TAKE CARE OF THEIR KIDS?
M:
Sorry. I clearly get worked up about this.

D: No, I’m totally with you, but then I don’t have the added rage of being a woman in a “modern” day where they’re still expected to be some Little House on the Prairie housewife type of stereotypical bullshit thing. Isn’t this 2012? Who’s making these decisions?

M: Well, it’s twofold for me. Yes, I get SUPREMELY agitated and pissed at the idea that ONLY women are able to parent. It’s part of what leads to discrimination against moms in the workplace (where dads don’t face the same thing), societal misogyny, and probably helps the mommy wars thrive. But it also bothers me because I think it both lets men off the hook and completely ignores their capabilities as parents. As much as I want to be recognized for the work I’m able at doing outside the home (and, by the way, that I’m damn good at), I want men to be recognized for the work they are able to do in the home (like you, who, by the way, is damn good at it).

D: That’s the aggravating part on my sex’s front: it also seems a little degrading to men in the implication that: Fathers who stay at home to take care of their kids are these poor helpless creatures for whom the job is “even more work” than for a woman, who is naturally designed to pump out babies and be a mommy, and serve her husband a martini when he walks in the door. Just as I think what I do is important, and the situation that defines our life, if the roles were reversed, I wouldn’t hold you to this standard that you’re “expected” to be a housemommy, with all the baggage and trappings that go along. Parents parent their children. It’s a two part deal. If it’s two dads, two moms, or a mom and a dad, there are obligations on both sides. Neither side is “more important” either, just different.

M: That’s the crux of it. Parent’s parent, or should. Why are we making these distinctions? WHYYYYYY?

D: I feel like over the past few years we’ve taken a step back in terms of women’s equality. That’s probably a whole ‘nother topic, but this whole census issue just seems so strange. I guess my biggest issue goes back to the implication that men and women each have a specific “place” in society, which in 2012, just seems bananas. Granted, I’m an art guy, who’s not the typical “manly man” in all that entails, but frankly, I think that’s a good thing. Too many problems arise in life when these labels and expectations are wrapped around people, because they simply don’t account for the real world. Not every woman wants to (or can) just stay home and be a mommy and not every man wants to watch sports and leave the parenting to Mommy. People are too unique to have to face up to these expectations, and I think it’s where a lot of strife comes in marriages and with family.

M: Well, and it goes beyond the individual marriages and family. Think about it–if this is how a government institution is looking at the roles of parenting, is it any wonder we don’t have better maternity leaves, or support for nursing/pumping moms, or family friendly companies? Because if the government is focusing on this disparity, why would there be any governmental support for policies and programs that help working moms?

D: Well you know, working moms are the anomaly. If they REALLY cared about their families, they’d be at home raising their children. Of course I’m kidding. I don’t understand this continued war against women. It’s 2012 and so many of this country’s policies and attitudes seem firmly grounded in the 1920s. The fact that women earn less, have fewer individual rights and this new disparity are all a little terrifying for the state of a woman, and I’m a dude! I can’t imagine the constant frustration you and your feminine ilk must face every freaking day.

M: I think that’s part of why this bothers me so much. I’m sure a lot of people are going to say, “what? It’s just a terminology thing, it’s just a phrase.” But the thing is, words and the attitudes behind them have power. By basically saying dads are babysitters, the government is just perpetrating the stereotypes that in 2012, just don’t make any sense to me.

D: See, but it ISN’T just terminology. Because there shouldn’t be a separate term. If a mom stays home to raise her kid, or a dad does it, there should be no difference. I think some of the danger comes from ironically, the discussion by some moms that “being a mom” is one of the most magical things on earth, and what they really mean is “being a stay-at-home mom.” Because I think these same moms, if the roles were reversed, wouldn’t be too keen on the idea of going to work while Dad stays home to raise the child, and you have to wonder how that factors into play. What about dads who want nothing better than to stay home and raise the kid they themselves love so much? Do they not get the same wish for that magical experience? In this way, some moms take on the same idiosyncratic stereotypes that are the ammunition for the other side of the argument. Is the argument then made that “well, it’s different because I’m his/her mom”? If it’s a “mom’s place” to be home with her child, because as a woman she’s naturally “more suited” to the experience than men, why would legislation that says the same be a problem? That opens up a whole new Pandora’s Box that will have to be addressed if people REALLY want to examine all sides of this. (For the record, I obviously don’t agree with this viewpoint, let it be clear that I’m offering a devil’s advocate argument.)

M: That IS quite the Pandora’s Box, and perhaps best addressed another time. But at the crux of what you said, and what we’ve been getting at–it DOES matter. The terminology matters, because the reality is that parenting is parenting is parenting no matter which partner is doing. Calling it something different for one of us than the other creates a whole host of issues that it’s really long past time for us to have moved on from.

D: Hear, hear!

M: What do you think, readers? Do you have an opinion on the matter, one way or the other? We’d love to hear your thoughts!

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The Race Before Bed

by The Momma on February 6, 2012

The Noodle has never been one of those kids who “winds down” before bedtime.

In fact, the hour before bedtime in the Noodle Knobs house is usually the zaniest, wackiest, loudest, rowdiest hour of the day. Running, squealing, jumping, flipping, tickling and laughing are all part of the pre-bedtime ritual–in large part because we have to try and burn out as much energy as possible before putting the kid to bed or we pay the price (in the form of a toddler who won’t sleep).

In recent days though, things have gotten even crazier than normal. Because the Noodle’s newest activity is a bit much, even for our house. The first time he did it, the Daddy and I both sat in awe the entire time it went on.

Because for 15 minutes, the kid ran around in circles.

Literally.

He literally ran around in a circle for literally 15 minutes.

Without stopping.

Saying “ZOOM CARS” the whole time.

The Daddy and I were sitting on the ground that first time, and he ran around the two of us while we stared, wide-eyed, at each other. At some point, we decided the kid wasn’t having a psychotic break, he was just burning off energy by pretending to be a car on a racetrack (we’ve finally hit the Cars addiction in our house, clearly, despite our earlier protests).

Now, it’s an almost nightly occurrence. Some days, the Daddy and I join in the “race”–we’ll all run around the coffee table like it’s the last laps of the Piston Cup. Some days, the kid just runs in his little circle all by himself. Either way, he laughs and laughs and laughs while squealing “ZOOM CARS”…and burning off that last gasp of energy.

It may not be quiet, it may not be calm, and I KNOW it looks like a madhouse in here, but damn if it isn’t the funniest part of the day.

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Post image for …About How Kids Can Be Really Adorable Sometimes

…About How Kids Can Be Really Adorable Sometimes

by The Momma on February 3, 2012

The Daddy: Toddlerhood- Not Always a Total Pain in the Ass, or Damn, He Can Really Be Adorable Sometimes!

The Momma: You know, in the day to day slog, sometimes it’s easy to let the struggle overshadow the awesome, but really, sometimes toddlers are awesome.

D: Super Sugary Alert!!
D: I listen to a few podcasts, and other places I find people I admire chatting away, and the topic often comes up that people without kids don’t want to hear about them. I get some of the STFU Parents rants, but the honest truth is that there is very little I’ve experienced that breaks open your heart into a new level of warmth and happiness than when the kid makes me smile. It’s simply a feeling that was unmatched before his birth, much as I love you and our relationship.

M: Exactly. I mean, you’re great, and our relationship is great, but he? Well, he’s so much more than great. Even when he’s being VERY TWO, one little giggle out of that kid is enough to make my heart burst. I think that’s the thing too, that you can’t possibly explain that to anyone who doesn’t have kids. It doesn’t necessarily make any logical sense, that even in the midst of tantrums and diapers you can have this thing that is so amazing.

D: People equate the feeling to the pleasure in owning a dog sometimes, which is just batshit crazy to me. I mean, WE own a dog and the feeling isn’t even close. I know part of it is the fact that you are responsible for keeping it alive, but the joy a kid brings is far different than any pet. Seeing that love and joy come through is palpable. And tells us he’s “happy!” It never ceases to make me think about myself and my own happiness. No dog’s gonna do that.

M: Yeah, when he goes through and lists everyone in the family who is happy it’s one of the sappiest sweet things ever.
M:
I have to say, I complain a lot about parenting (uh, like everything else), in part because he’s not an “easy” kid. But DAMN is he a happy one.
M:
And that’s just such a fantastic thing, an awesome JOY, that I can’t help but be insanely grateful that he’s in our lives. (could I possibly be any more saccharine?)

D: No, I get you. It’s really hard to talk about without sounding like you’re barfing up rainbows and glitter, but it’s true. Maybe there’s something to that as well. I know it’s been the case for me, that the new experience of him in my life has caused me to rethink a lot of my super hard wired cynicism and negativity. Don’t get me wrong, I can still get pretty snarky (as you well know) but there’s a new level of…something that’s come directly from his positive influence in our lives. I would hesitate to call it maturity, because that sounds grown up and responsible and shit.

M: Heaven forbid!
M:
If nothing else, it’s at least a chance to look at the world through the lens of someone that is experiencing everything new. It’s so much more exciting and awesome when you don’t have all the baggage, you know? And it’s easy to get caught up in his enthusiasm for the littlest things…which can lead to perhaps a little perspective on what’s worth negativity and what’s not.

D: There’s a weird recurring theme since the birth of the kid of all the tropes you’ve heard your whole life about the “fresh perspective of a child” and “simple pleasures” etc. that I was trying to resist. There’s a reason some things are stereotypes, and again, it comes back to that not knowing, pre-child that causes a cynical or at least…ignorant viewpoint of what it means to have a child. Once it happens, once you’re in that new existence, there’s no going back, and all those hackneyed sayings start to have real meaning, instead of just cheesy Precious Moments cards. Granted, we don’t veer down that cheesy road too often, but still some experiences are unavoidable.

M: I think nature provides us with those heart bursting moments to keep us from throwing the kids to the wolves when they’re in the middle of a 20 minute screaming fit. So you know, it all balances out.

D: Nature’s playing for keeps on this one then, because it works incredibly well. I guess the happy feeling HAS to be intense to balance the other side: the most impatient and frustrated we’ve ever been in our entire lives.

M: Hey, no one ever said it would be ALL lollipops and unicorns!

D: No, but the lollipops and unicorns we’ve had have been pretty fantastic. Makes the other stuff worth it.
Wait, did I actually just say that?

M: See? This parenthood thing CHANGES YOU man!

D: No! I’m holding on to my youth! No! I’m an immature kid! La La La La La!!!

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Beyond Wardrobe Malfunction…

by The Daddy on February 1, 2012

Sadly this situation has more truth than exaggeration. The Daddy has a penchant for colorful clothes (for the kid, not for himself) and especially an affinity for plaid. Not necessarily bad on it’s own, it turns problematic when you have a child that grows like a mutated weed, and half the clothes are dirty, as is so often the case. When it comes time for daycare or any other engagement where interaction with the outside world comes into play, those are the days where fashionable clothing options are…scarce.

Needless to say, on average The Daddy will more often than not go for boldness in an outfit over something more…pleasing to the eye.

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The Boy With the Pink Balloon

by The Momma on January 30, 2012

So one of the things that happened at the birthday party we attended last week was sort of interesting, and I’d love to hear your thoughts on it.

The party room was minimally decorated, but there were balloons–enough for all the kids and a few to spare. There were mostly pink, a few purple, and a few blue balloons, which made some sense in a “typical” kind of way, because there were mostly girls at the party, with only a handful of boys.  So the party place put out the colors accordingly.

The Noodle started off with a blue balloon, like the other boys, but he let it go at one point to eat his cake. When he realized it was gone, he looked up at the ceiling filled with balloons, pointed, and said:

“Peek Bawoon Mommy! Peek Bawoon!!”

Yup, he wanted a pink balloon.

I wasn’t actually surprised, he’s been on a pink kick lately. He wants the pink vitamin, he wants the pink juice, he calls orange pink half the time. So it not only didn’t surprise me, I gladly handed him the pink balloon, which made his face light up in that awesome toddler way.

But that’s not really the interesting part of my story. The interesting part happened a few minutes later. See, one of the other moms saw the Noodle had a pink balloon. And she saw a blue balloon near her. And she brought the blue balloon over and offered it to the Noodle. “Does he want this one instead?”

The Daddy and I just chuckled, and said, “Oh no, he’s actually thrilled with the pink one. But thank you!”

Here’s the thing. I’m in no way upset at that other mom–it was a sweet gesture, and I really hope she didn’t feel like we were pushing her away. But I did wonder if she thought it was strange that my little boy wanted the pink balloon more than the blue one. And then I got a little annoyed with myself for wondering. Because I can see why the kid loves pink. In his eyes, it’s the color of his favorite vitamin, and the color of some of his favorite candy, and the color of juice. It’s pretty and bright and vibrant and fun. He hasn’t reached the stage where he thinks pink is for girls, blue is for boys. He likes pink for some things (and on some days) and he likes blue for others (and on others).

My kid has more than his fair share of blue stuff, of boy stuff, of the typical gender specific stuff that seems so inherent in everything kids do these days. He has cars and trucks, trains and rockets, and, yes, plenty of blue. But he also has a lot MORE gender neutral stuff–blocks and art supplies and stuffed animals and puzzles and books and green and white and yellow and orange and brown and red. And yes, pink. We try to provide him with stuff that will keep him entertained and will keep him occupied and will make him happy. If that’s blue cars, great. If that’s pink balloons, great.

But I always do wonder in social settings, what other people do/think. It bothers me that I wonder, but I do. So tell me, would you have let your little boy have a pink balloon? Would you look askance at a boy with a pink balloon?

 

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Post image for …About Attending Birthday Parties

…About Attending Birthday Parties

by The Momma on January 27, 2012

The Daddy:The Kid’s First Attended Birthday Party- Not Too Bad Actually, Right?

The Momma: Shockingly, it went pretty well. One meltdown (which, c’mon, after a long day at daycare straight to a party environment…I’m shocked that’s all it was), no kids were hurt, and he even left smiling and waving!

D: It was pretty cool to have one of our (shockingly) first group parent/kid experiences, complete with all the awkwardness. And of top of it, to see that (for the most part) most of the kids and parents were about on the same page, more or less.

M: Yeah, it actually helped me feel like we’re in the normal range! Especially seeing that there were at least 5 other kids who had little tantrums and that almost all the parents were doing the “get to know you” thing!

D: The kid seemed to have a pretty big meltdown, but after he finally chilled out and rejoined the group, more of the other kids began their tantrum phase. So all in all, he just got his done and out of the way early. I kind of was expecting it, but it was a pleasant surprise to see him keep his shit together for the rest of the night. Then we got to enjoy the show when other parents went through it.

M: That’s the other thing, it was nice to be in a room full of parents that are all experiencing basically the exact same developmental stages we are, so there was no side eye, no dirty looks. It was really refreshing.

D: That was indeed a pleasant surprise. I kind of go into these kinds of events with that expectation, the sidelong glances, the Mommy Cliques, the aloofness, and it was a real treat to pretty much not see any of that. I really tried to go out of my way to meet all the parents, even they were a little shy. I don’t pretend that it’s easy, or that I’m not going to be the one to break the ice, but everyone was warm and inviting.

M: All in all, I think it was as successful as a birthday party with fifteen 2-3 year olds and their parents who have all never met could possibly have been.
M:
Although, I will admit that there was a moment when I was sure the kid was going to do a header into the cake. Which would have been exciting, but might have ruined things a little.

D: Yeah, you were more on cake duty, which was the ultimate source of the trouble tonight. That kid gets fixated on something, and there’s almost no turning him back. That’s the big hurdle I hope gets under control in the near future. That’s what caused the tantrum, but then again, I wonder if he would have found something else he wanted but couldn’t have IN THAT INSTANT that would have pushed him over the edge. Nice to see him sitting calmly eating his slice when he finally got it.

M: Yeah, once he got the cake, nothing else seemed to bother him! Oh, and his balloon. Such simple pleasures.

D: Yeah, all the fuss over the cake, like it was the cure for cancer. And then, and then…Oh look! A balloon! THIS! This is the best thing in the world! It is amazing to watch that joy though. A hard thing to explain to non-parents. Who cares? The kid likes a balloon? But of course it isn’t just liking it. Nothing else is more amazing and fantastic in the universe, at least for that moment.

M: I think that’s part of why I ended up so pleased with the party–not only because we got to (finally) meet the parents of a bunch of the kids he goes to school with, but also because it was nice to see him have a handful of things that he just truly enjoyed. They were treats–he doesn’t get cake and balloons and goody bags every day you know–and he was appropriately impressed with them in a way that was adorable.

D: Oh, he had a total score tonight on the goodie bag. Great on the parents or the play center, whoever put those together. Total win. Yes, all in all it was a good night. I had reservations about how his behavior was going to go, and while not perfect, was pretty good and totally on par with the rest of the kids. Some better, some worse (we won’t talk about them) and just in general, how one of those experiences ought to go in my mind. An unexpected success.
D: He may actually be ready for his own birthday party soon. God help us.

M: We still have 8 months to steel ourselves for that. *Gulp*

D: Who knows, he may be over his tantrum screaming phase by then, right? Right? RIGHT?!?!??

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The HitHug Conundrum

by The Momma on January 23, 2012

So, I don’t know what to do with this particular little bit of fun.

The Noodle has a bit of  problem with hitting when he gets worked up–whether he’s frustrated, mad, happy, or excited, if he gets overstimulated hitting is one of his outlets. This only really seems to happen with us (we’ve never heard reports of him hitting at daycare), which makes me glad on the one hand and also annoyed on the other. Now, we’ve been working diligently on this from a discipline point of view, but his new habit makes it kind of hard.

See, before the routine was: Noodle gets worked up, Noodle hits and hits and hits (himself, the dog, the wall, us, the floor, the chair, whatever is closest to him) until one of us can reach him and stop the madness (he usually gets a time out to calm himself down, sometimes with one of us holding his hands if he keeps hitting himself or whatever surrounds him), and when he finally calms down he gives a hug to whoever (or whatever) he hit.

Now, though, the routine sometimes goes: Noodle gets worked up, Noodle hits, Noodle immediately hugs whatever he hit. Like, there’s not even room for a breath between the hitting and the hug. It’s almost one fluid motion…hithug.

What the heck do you DO with that? He obviously knows hitting isn’t something he’s supposed to do. He knows he has to say he’s sorry/give a hug when he hits. But now he seems to think he can hit and hug and one sort of negates the other.

I know that a big portion of it is we have to anticipate the hitting a little better, and calm him down before we get to that point. But I feel like the lesson he’s learned from us isn’t NO HITTING, but instead “you can hit as long as you say you’re sorry.”

Which, um, isn’t what we mean. At all.

So…I’m at a loss. Do we just ride it out? Ignore the hitting? Ignore the hug? Help!

{ 4 comments }

Post image for …About The Trials of Teaching a Two Year Old

…About The Trials of Teaching a Two Year Old

by The Momma on January 20, 2012

The Daddy: The Middle Twos- An Awkward Time to Teach.

D: I feel like as the kid develops into his more verbose and higher functioning middle twos, finding the right stuff to teach him has become a little more difficult. We’re no longer focused on pure survival, but not quite to the point where he can communicate. As he gets more independence and more skills, I personally find it difficult at times to maintain a level of teaching him stuff without it being abject failure half the time.

The Momma: It’s definitely a switch from just surviving to…something else. Learning, teaching, entertaining, etc. Which is hard when he has the attention span of…well, a 2 year old.

D: I know it’s just the next stage of development, and learning for us, but it certainly is different. Maybe all I’m really referring to is push back, but there’s a sense at times where I feel like I’m totally doing it wrong- he doesn’t want to listen, he doesn’t want certain foods and then in the next instant, screams for them. The new intense hardcore blood curdling scream? Also not my favorite.

M: It’s really easy to question if we’re screwing it up right now (uh, more than before?). But I’m encouraged by stories from other people that other two year olds are the same way. Which would mean we’re not screwing up, so much as dealing with a kid with typical development…who knows how to push our buttons.

D: There are times lately where I really need to remind myself of this- that it’s not a sudden failure, or lack of effort or ineptitude, but merely his new phase that’s causing the tension. I try to remind myself that it really is a phase, and even specifically called “the terrible twos” for a reason. I guess I just always assumed that the phrase more referred to the attitude and tantrums, and never considered that it would (obviously) be tied to emotional independence where he might fight every single decision we could make.

M: It’s hard not to take it personally. But In my rational mind, I don’t think we’re doing anything wrong. In my rational mind, I’ve read enough/heard enough/seen enough to know that this is an appropriate, if frustrating, stage that we’re fumbling our way through as best we can. That doesn’t mean it’s not hard or doesn’t make my IRRATIONAL self think we’re doing it all wrong.

D: Do you get the sense that it’ll just click into place at some point? More than something we “figure out”, it ends up being more something we “get through?”

M: Yeah, I sort of think that this stage, in particular, is more a bare knuckled ride that we just try to survive even if we don’t ever totally have it figured out.

D: No, I know we’ll survive, I just (what a shock) don’t like feeling like I don’t have any clue on how to solve the problem. Maybe because it’s so new, maybe because it’s so different, but I just feel like it’s a whole new ball of wax where all of the previous lessons have gone out the window. There seems to be no groundwork for how to deal with this new state. No set of rules, no structure to it. Look at me, overanalyzing again.

M: And you say I’M the one who over thinks things!

D: I’ve got to have SOME crazy in the relationship, don’t I?

M: Well, I can’t carry all the neurotic self-doubt about parenting all on my own. But I do think this is a phase we’ll work our way through…and one that we’re not totally screwing up, even if we’re fumbling at times.

D: I’m sure right when this stage finally gets easier, a whole new level of challenge await. We’ll look back on the twos and be asking “what was so terrible again?”

M: Ah parenting, one new challenge after another.

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Adventures in Bed Upgrades

by The Daddy on January 18, 2012

So we purchased the “Lifetime Bed” which is to say, a conversion bed that in theory, is supposed to match all the kid’s growing sleep needs. We already converted once, earlier than we expected when the little acrobat figured out how to first hurl himself out of his crib and then later, stealthily parkour out over the edge landing gracefully on the floor. Those experiences were all kinds of new and special fun. That was Conversion One into the toddler bed, which is just basically the crib without one side.

Now we’ve moved into the next phase, to accommodate our rapidly out of control growing weed of a kid. The Momma and The Daddy were both under the assumption that the next step would be into a twin bed. First the crib, then the day bed with the same mattress, and into the next size up- a twin, right? RIGHT? We didn’t even question this progression, it seemed only natural.

Well.

Apparently the makers of our “Lifetime Bed” weren’t kidding around. Because, if the bed did convert into a twin mattress, we’d be replacing that soon enough. No, this thing went from baby crib to toddler three-quarter walled crib into MEGABED. This thing is enormous. It ended up converting into a full mattress bed, which we didn’t realize before we had already purchased the NON-REFUNDABLE twin mattress, mind you. Nor was it before the purchase and laundering of a full twin bed set complete with much coveted Disney Cars branded sheets. And then not before it was just barely the Knob’s bedtime. No, The Daddy had assembled the full bed before it really struck that his spatial estimates were either WAY off, or we were going to need a bigger boat, as the parlance goes.

Needless to say, a full mattress was acquired  which was much better quality than the twin, and a sweet deal to boot. The shopkeep promised over the phone to have one I could take home that night, only to have me arrive and discover the one quoted was not in stock. A higher quality (see: double valued!) mattress was supplied for the same price. All in all, a much better deal that will last the kid’s childhood into teen years much longer than the misguided twin bed. And as an added bonus, we now have a guest room option!

The kid loves it, even if he is swallowed by the thing. He’ll grow into it, I’m sure. Only soon enough!

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The Literal Definition of Growing UP

by The Momma on January 16, 2012

Yesterday, we bought the Noodle a new bed.

Because he was outgrowing the toddler bed.

Because we have a behemoth of a 2.5 year old.

I mostly don’t have any “oh my baby is growing up so fast” sadness about this particular move. Instead I have “DEAR LORD CHILD STOP GROWING WE CAN’T KEEP UP” sadness about this move. Seriously, I feel like we are constantly on this treadmill of trying to keep him in shoes, pants, shirts that fit…now we’re adding the bed?

I’m seriously afraid of his teenage years is what I’m saying.

It’s hard sometimes having such a big kid. People expect him to behave “better” than he does, because they see him and think he’s 3.5 or even 4.5, not 2.5. They shoot us looks when we carry him (oof, and he’s getting hard to carry!), or when he isn’t able to talk well, or when he’s throwing an epic Terrible Twos Tantrum.

But he is still just two and a half, and sometimes it boggles my mind that we’re already buying 4T and size 9 shoes. Or that he can reach every door, lock, and window in the house. Or that he’s almost too tall for the toddler bed.

The rest of the world may think he’s older than he is, but to me he’s still my little man.

Even if he is too big for his bed.

 P.S. I totally lied. Seeing him in the big bed? Totally set off my mommy heart. We ended up with a full instead of a twin (long story, big bed), and now he looks so little. The swing from one extreme to another kind of caught my heart in my throat.

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