Momma has lost her mind.

Bringing Down the House… One Hysterical, Death Defying Moment at a Time.

My toddler’s happiness is a short lived farce.  A singing, dancing Little Man is one cookie denial away from exhibiting full on flopping fish syndrome.  This type of behavior can happen at any given time; however, is most likely to occur in public areas such as the library or grocery store.

Momma won’t let me climb in the wood stove.

I’m one of the lucky ones, I have a husband that partners me in protecting my one year old from his own demise.  However, I am a SAHM.  I am on my own during the day.  In addition to my one year old Little Man, I have a Sassy four year old.  I need someone to tag and throw in the ring at least twice a day.  That’s funny.  Did I say twice a day?  I meant twice within the hour.  Anyone available?  Anyone?

My husband and I haven’t slept a full night in 17 months.  Longer for myself if I count the months my Little Man put on his acrobatic, one man show inside of me.  Coffee isn’t cutting it anymore.  Even when I do have a second to sit down with a fresh, warm cup, my son is sure to desecrate it with Cinnamon Toast Crunch, Legos, a banana or whatever else he sees fit to throw in there.

Exhibit A
Exhibit A
Exhibit B
Exhibit B

I need something quicker.  Maybe, if I alternate red bull and speedballs, I’ll be juiced enough to catch him the next time he decides to sprint upstairs so he can throw whatever is in his hand in the toilet.  I am so done wrapping my arm up with a plastic bag like a condom, so I can fish his sister’s finger nail polish out of the (never flushed) toilet.

There is an even stronger case for encouraging drug use of the mellow kind.  The death defying stunts my Little Man attempts every 60 seconds leaves my heart constantly palpitating.  A little person with no fear, learning how to walk down a set of stairs is terrifying enough.  My Little Guy now likes to jump down, step by step, and leap to the bottom.  The yellow and brown bruises adorning his forehead are proof that boys never learn.

A concussion waiting to happen.
A concussion waiting to happen.

I have a woodstove and a little boy that believes things that cause lethal scaring are the real things dreams are made of, despite his Mother’s furred brow when warning him with a “HOT!”.

Naturally, sharp objects are attractive.  To a toddler, especially mine, shiny, sharp things like daddy’s screwdrivers are worthy of raising in the air like a lighter at a Def Leopard concert, while full on sprinting around the house.  Do you know how many ways I envisioned my son’s death while chasing him to get the screwdrivers out of his tiny, dangerous little hands?

Eighth wonder of my toddler's world.
Eighth wonder of Little Man’s world.

My little destroyer does not discriminate.  It doesn’t matter if you are a friend, aunt, cousin or even his own sister.  He will find your most prized possession and have his way with it.  Thank God I saw this moment happening and saved Sassy 4yo’s most adored creation.

Do you see the split second I had to capture this moment and then save the gingerbread house?
Do you see the split second I had to capture this moment and then save the gingerbread house?

Have you ever seen a one year old try to surf on a rocker glider ottoman?  Or how about a one year old that can scale windows?  The jury is still out, but I may have had a drunken one nighter with Spider Man.  There is no other explanation for Little Man’s death defying talent for climbing things.

After years of therapy…

Mothers concern themselves with putting too much sugar or hormones in to their child’s body (pshaw…what-ev).  I laugh in the face of fruity pebbles laced with red 40 and yellow 6.  My son has ingested crayons (the cheap, toxic kind), dog food, two day old snacks found under the couch in a wad of dog hair, insulation (it was just one bite, I swear), a dead bee that called his name from the window sill, play dough and has sucked on batteries for at least five minutes at a time.  He may be a little radioactive, but he is healthy as a horse.

If I see this, my next thought is "Crap! Where's the baby".
If I see this, my next thought is “Crap! Where’s the baby”.

Surely you have been afraid at some point in your life.  Well you don’t know fear until you see my Little Man coming at you with any sort of hard object in his hand.  You have absolutely no idea what he is capable of or plans on doing with said object.  I have seen grown men cower to a toy hammer or plastic serving spoon.  Little Man may just want to show you this really cool thing he found, or he may want to pistol whip you with it because that is just. so. funny.

Come at me dawg.

My Little Man dishes out heart attacks and tantrums just as often as hugs.  It’s adorable, exhausting, frightening, alarming and thank God temporary, I know.

Does your toddler have a weapon of choice?  How do you stay sane and composed when freak out session number 25 strikes at the grocery store check out aisle?  Do you feel prompted to assure complete strangers that you don’t beat your child, because of the constant (always visible) bruises portrayed on your precious dare devil’s features?

14 thoughts on “Bringing Down the House… One Hysterical, Death Defying Moment at a Time.”

  1. One of my twins bit the other twin.. for a about a year and a half. It was terrible!
    Love your new theme! Font size appears bigger which is great for me as i’m short-sighted and lose my glasses all the time. :0)

    1. Thanks for the feedback on the new theme. I wasn’t sure how it would go over but I couldn’t pass up on that header picture. Hummingbirds always remind me of my Mom and since it was sitting on a pencil…well it just kind of fit me.

      My little guy bit for a short time but I have been lucky on that hazard. My daughter was a head butter(?) when she was mad. Concrete floor or your head…it never mattered! I was delighted to see that phase pass as you can imagine.

      1. I can imagine. My twins swing in roundabouts. One will be an angel for a few weeks, while the other is a handful, and then they’ll change places and the cycle continues. it must be some strange twin phenomenon. I wish they’d both stay on the even keel. Every day, one of them refuses to get stressed and we’re in a hurry to get to pre-school. They’re away to montessori now. Finally I can have my breakfast and start writing!
        The hummingbird is beautiful. :0)

  2. This post had me rolling on the floor! After having two girls, my son has been quite the experience! always so curious and no fear at all! i caught him
    trying to fly off the couch and literally caught him mid air! I guess he thought he was superman or something, and he’s only 15 months!

    1. I think little boys think their moms have super powers. They never suspect they will hit the ground (and possibly die) when they dive off of something because, obviously, Momma will catch you 🙂 I’m glad you got a laugh out of this one.

  3. OH MY GOSH! This is too much! You just played on every single one of my fears over motherhood, though you crack me up with the ingesting of crayons and dog-hair-covered snacks. That’s so funny. Any time my sister in laws have mommy guilt I’m just like “Hey, your kids are still alive. That in itself is an accomplishment.”

    1. Yes, if they’re breathing at bedtime, I call it a success. You have already proven that you’re not scared of much in life and you have a sense of humor. You’ll survive parenting with the rest of us.

  4. Omg! I’m so glad Aussa shared this….hilarious and SO MY LIFE. The part with the screwdrivers and envisioning your son’s death made me laugh the laugh only someone who’s been there could. Just last night, in an effort to keep my 19 month old boy “safe”, I closed the baby gate to keep him out of the kitchen because a glass jar fell. While I was making sure there was no broken glass on the floor and going back to making dinner, he climbed the chair at the table and fell off onto the hardwood floor…..on his head. Ugh. He cried the “real cry” and I spent the rest of the evening scouring his head for bumps and making sure he was ok. Little boys have no idea of how many times they make their mother’s hearts stop!

    Hang in there. Let’s form a support group. 😉


    1. So many relatable things in this comment! A support group may be the only way we make it out of this adventure alive. Thank God for comic relief, right?

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