That Girl Ryan

I have been neglecting my blog…I sincerely apologize to those of you who have sent emails asking where I have been. But this little person in my life has been keeping me quite busy lately.

Bingo!! It’s my daughter, who has recently been taking full advantage of being a terrible toddler.

Listen, I have never been a fan of kids, I think they are a lot of work. Don’t get me wrong, I love my own kid and don’t mind the work because shes like a mini version of me, but kids in general…eh.

As my daughter gets older, she teaches me a lot about little people (little people like children, not midgets-but if anyone knows more about midgets, please, educate me.)

Like the fact that infants are boring, babies are adorable and toddlers are evil. No, I’m not kidding, toddlers are fucking evil. Gosh darn they are so cute and seem innocent, but if you live with them, you know what I’m talking about.

Of course some people would disagree, but only because they probably don’t have little ones.

You see, there are two kinds of people in this world; those who have kids and those who don’t. There is a clear distinction. Like the fact that people with children have to have a great sense of humor.

Why? you ask.

Well because chances are they have been peeded on, vomited on and definitely shit on. Would you continue to work a job if someone shit on you? Probably not, yet parents continue.

Take my advice, once someone poops on you and you still love them anyway, you see everything in a different light.

So when my daughter was finally potty trained, I thought we had gotten thru hard times, but like most of my time as a parent, I was proven wrong.

We have entered into the gates of 3-year-old Hell. My bundle of joy is starting to become a hand bag of demons. I know that sounds harsh, but just the other night I had a very interesting conversation with my toddler:

Her: ” I want to tell you something”

Me: “Ok…what?”

Her: “I want to eat your brains”

At first I giggled it off, assuming she said something else that I misinterpreted, but then she came into my bedroom one night, leaned over my bed and said, “Mom, I want to eat your brains“.

What innocent human being says I want to eat your brains? What the hell is that about? All I know if this Zombie thing DOES happen, we know whose side she is going to be on and now I’m considering buying a helmet to wear to bed.

Brains…I mean beans anyone?

Found this protective-brain helmet on sale for $9.99!

Speaking of brains, toddler’s think in a very different type of way, borderline OCD. Like when it comes time for hygiene, something my child doesn’t believe in, there is a ritual that must be completed or the whole thing goes to shit.

It took me over 3 months to figure out, but I believe I have it down now:

Step 1: the word “Bath” or “Shower” MUST NOT be mentioned before 7pm; or else she still has energy to fight it.

Step 2: each bath toy, which include: A Ken barbie with chewed feet (kudos to our dog, Levi), two mermaids that are topless (again kudos to Levi) and a rubber duck, must be shown, introduced and placed on the side of the bathtub.

Step 3: DO NOT EVEN ask her to remove clothing by herself. She tries once and screams bloody murder that she can’t get it off and she can’t breathe because its on her body. Even though its been on her body all day-now its extremely constricting. I must remove clothing myself.

Step 4: enter her into the bath slowly, one toe at a time. It doesn’t matter that this procedure takes 5-10 minutes, it must be completed this way.

Step 5: YOU MUST immediately scrub underneath her armpits to make her laugh

Step 6: The drain switch has to be turned on and off by her only-or you will be paying for it all night.

Step 7: Towel must cover all body parts and she must be carried to her room like a “baby” (which means like a small infant).

If you follow these steps, you will have a successful bath.

So when people question why I only wash my kid like 2-3x a week; I tell them to shove it.

And You Thought Rain Man Was Annoying…

I wish that was the worst of it, but we are just getting started. My toddler has made ME and my husband very bad people. Bad because we have had no choice but to become pathological liars. I think I tell at least 10 lies between the time when I arrive home from work and the time I leave for work in the morning.

Explaining simple reason to a 3 or 4 year old is impossible, they don’t accept anything you say as truth because… well… you saw the bath ritual right? Enough said.

So I have to lie about certain things, like when my kid asks me why she can’t sleep in my bed, I tried to explain that it’s not healthy to sleep in bed with your parents. Plus mom and dad like to cuddle, talk about their day and do…other things. Clearly, this answer was not good enough, so i had no choice but to tell her that I have a monster under my bed who might eat her if she sleeps with us. I have yet to be asked that question again.

Here some other bullshit that has worked…

Toddler Question: Why do I have to take a shower?

Parent Answer: Because your hair will get so dirty it will fall out.

Toddler Question: Why do I have to sit in my seat at the restaurant until you and dad are done eating dinner?

Parent Answer: Because the manager will come over and make you wash dishes for the rest of your life.

Toddler Question: Why do I have to stop asking you the question why?

Parent Answer: Because if you don’t I might throw you out the window.

The bottom line is…this shit works. Don’t Judge.

Ain’t Nothing Wrong With a Monster under the Bed.

Ok, Ok, so clearly I am not striving to be the PERFECT parent…but I always hoped to be a decent one that my kid would appreciate. Yet, as she gets older, I can’t help but notice she makes me look like an asshole to complete strangers.

I was always under the impression that it was a parent’s job to embarrass their kids, something I am completely looking forward to, but again, I stand corrected.

I have a toddler that can’t keep secrets and hasn’t learned the rules of “What is said at home, stays at home.”

Before moving to preschool this year, my daughter’s last babysitter was of Asian decent. She has an accent, is about 4’9, around 50 years old and is the cutest woman EVER. My husband and I have a special imitation of her because she is a notable character. Obviously, our impression included an Asian accent. My toddler never took any interest in the impression and never acknowledged that it even existed. So we would do it, frequently at home, for a good laugh.

I think you know where I am going with this, so let me re-inact this classic event…

Scene: Babysitter’s house

When: After work

Who: My Toddler, Me and The Babysitter

Toddler: “Hey Miss babysitter, your Chinese… did you know that?”

Babysitter: “Why yes, I am Chinese how did you know that?”

At this point in the conversation, I immediately recognized that it was too late to stop the train wreck about to happen. For a brief moment, I considering running out the door, never to return.

Toddler: “Because my mom and dad said you walk and talk like this…hong kong chong ching fhong…”

The feeling of embarrassment from that moment surpassed anything I had ever felt in my entire lifetime.

That crazy kid said what?!

So what have we learned so far, My kid is 3 and she’s devious. Sure, I think that’s a fair assessment, but what’s worse is that she is smart, WAY too smart for her own good.

I love shopping and treat myself every now and again to expensive purchases…like shoes. From previous experiences, I have learned not to bring my kid with me to the mall when I can help it. But this one particular time, i needed some new shoes and brought her along.
All went well until she announced that she had to throw up…like throw up right NOW.

Now, there is an innate parental reaction when your child says these words. You grab the first bag you can find or scurry over to the nearest trashcan. Not wanting another bad parenting scandal, I raced her out of the store to avoid vomit chunks landing on any articles of clothing and leaned her over the nearest mall trashcan. Not only did I look trashy as hell, but I was screaming at her to throw up IN the trashcan. I then realized that chances were, my kid’s vomiting aim was no where near the skill of a post-college adult and would need a second vomit barrier than just the trashcan. So in my moment of panic, I threw my $190 pair of heels on to the mall hallway floor so I could use the bag as a catcher.

As I lifted her up to throw up in the bag over the trashcan, I noticed a variety of silent bystanders watched in total disbelief; disbelief over the fact that an expensive pair of shoes were lying in the middle of the mall floor or that I was holding my 3 year old over a public trashcan. As I braced myself for the upheaval of a chicken finger lunch, my daughter started laughing hysterically and said, “Got you mom. I don’t have to throw up!”

I went home that night and Googled; Is Parent-Abuse a real thing?

Guess what, It is.

Puke Happens.

So the point of this is to show you the kinds of shit I do in my free time- hold my kid over public trashcans and worry about her eating my brain. But also, that the real life lessons you learn are from Toddlers. So pay attention America, I think we all could take a little direction from these tiny demons.

Now all of you need to go and thank your mothers for putting up with all your shit.

There She Is…and SASS is her middle name.

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