Whether coworkers or my fellow book clubbers or clients or acquaintances of all times – people are asking how much longer until Doots turns a year old. “So close! Oh, but your baby is almost gone!” Then imagine them making Sad Face for me at the very idea of OMG NO LONGER A BABY WAAAAAAAH.


Ladies and gents: the baby, he disappeared a long time ago. The birthday may still be a week or so away, but that doesn’t matter. We are well into Toddlerdom. My baby, he sat nicely and smiled up at me sweetly and babbled oh-so-softly. Yeah, this current child is not a baby.

My baby most certainly did not:

  • Insist on taking his toothbrush into the bath, then repeatedly dip it into his bathwater and back into his mouth, sucking loudly and grinning widely. He knows that totally grosses me out.
  • Signal that he was finished eating at his meals by throwing his plate and any remaining food on the floor.
  • Enjoy pulling tissue paper out of the box. Like, in a doing-it-in-slow-mo-to-fully-savor-the-moment kind of way.
  • Stand under the pantry and demand all the boxes of Rice A Roni. Then drag them all to his mat and ceremoniously shake every box while he dances.
  • Walk around the house singing at the top of his lungs.
  • Insist that he does all the sweeping whenever I’m cleaning the house.
  • Freak out when we’re in the car and are driving behind a huge ole’ truck. Point! Point! Hooty noise! PointPointPoint!
  • Decide that pushing a “baby” (stuffed monkey) in a doll stroller, all around the daycare living room, is the Best Time Ever. (Actually: he alternates between throwing it in front of the stroller, running it over with the stroller, and then picking it up by its ear and plopping it back into the stroller seat.)
  • Have moments of what I like to refer to as “Fits of Thunder”, epic temper tantrums of crying, tears, hands-over-mouth-in-horror, then throwing himself prone on the floor while moaning. And then in 2 seconds it’s all over and he’s off to a new adventure.
  • Stand motionless at the door, watching his father mow the lawn in complete and utter awe.
  • Require approximately 15 stuffed animals as well as his beloved blanket to be in his crib at all times.
  • Come at me full-tilt, screaming all the way, and give me big sloppy kisses.
  • Take pleasure in pulling off his socks at every opportunity, shoving them both in his mouth.
  • Try to nonchalantly sneak into a free chair at the “preschooler” table at daycare, where the big kids have their lessons and coloring sessions.
  • Yank on my skirt excitedly whenever he spies my cell phone, so I will play the “Funky” ringtone so he can jam out.
  • Jump on our bed every chance he can get.
  • Know when to work the “mama” and the “dada” calls in his favor – for snacks and lemonade and things out of reach and when tired or bummed out or can’t find his blanket…
  • Walk. Oh boy, well: at least, attempt to walk. Drunken zombie-style.

Drunken Zombie! from Emily Mueller on Vimeo.


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