Almost from the moment Tori was born, I looked forward to the day when she could walk and talk and feed herself. When she became a toddler, in other words. Well, she’s a toddler now, and I admit, there are days I wonder, “why was I in such a hurry to get here?” Because this girl? Is hell on wheels.
And here are ten reasons why.
She went directly from those first hesitant steps to running. And run she does. Through the house. Across the yard. Down the driveway. We sometimes joke that we need to microchip her, because if nothing gets in her way, that girl will just keep going and going and going…kind of like a beagle with a good scent in his schnoz.
She never stops. Ever. I don’t think she knows how to sit still. Period. She runs from one activity to the next like a little Flash Gordon. She even wags her butt in the air when she’s trying to fall asleep – just so she can feel like she’s still moving.
She’s part velociraptor. Remember those nasty little dinosaurs in Jurassic Park that would attack out of nowhere and bite arms and legs off? Tori’s bite is exactly like that. I’m just waiting for her to draw blood.
She does things just to get a reaction out of me. I can almost hear the thoughts in her head. “Electrical outlets are off limits? Then how ’bout I put my hand over one?” “Oh, and you’d rather I didn’t eat this cord? Well, now it’s looking rather tasty.” I knew to expect these shenanigans when she hit the teenage years, but I wasn’t prepared to deal with such contrariness at age one.
She’s determined to make the animals bite her. I know she knows how to pet nicely. I’ve seen her do it repeatedly. So I have no idea why she insists on pulling fur, grabbing tails and yanking ears. I think she has a death wish.
She can’t bear to be restrained. We’ve already talked about her inability to stop. So when it’s time to put her in her car seat? Full blown hysterics ensue. I literally have to hold her squirming body down with my head while I blindly thread her flailing arms through the straps. By the time I’m done, I feel as though I’ve wrestled a bear.
She would rather suffer a million time outs than get her diaper changed. Merely mentioning the words “diaper change” is enough to send her running. I’ve gotten to be a pro at wiping bottoms and fastening diapers with my daughter arranged in strange positions – standing, on her hands and knees, even upside down.
She’s training to be a professional food fighter. By the conclusion of every meal, food is everywhere – the floor, the ceiling, her hair, my hair…it’s unbelievable.
She’s mastered the art of the temper tantrum. And oh my lord, what a temper tantrum it is, complete with limbs flailing, head banging and screaming. It’s ear-shattering. Fortunately, they don’t last long, but it’s hell on earth while they do.
She’s more fun than I ever imagined she could be. Sure, I’m starting to get bald patches on my head from where I’ve pulled my hair out. But I’ve also got newly taut muscles from all the belly laughs. All the frustration? Totally seems worth it when I see that shining face giggling back at me.
Toddlerhood. It’s a brave new world. One I’m not sure how to navigate. But I’m sure we’ll muddle through, somehow. Now, tell me, dear readers. What other surprises does this little girl have in store for me?