Remind me to never, ever, EVER promise to write something specific. The moment I would think about writing it, I'd lose the motivation to do it. But I promised I would! Yes, but... there are so many other things I want to write about! So what did I write? None of it. For two solid weeks. Never again. I will write whatever I want to, no matter how long or short it turns out. And I'm not promising a certain number of posts per week, because that would be the same exact mess I'm trying to pull myself out of right now!! Here's the scenario: Little Man loves art. He paints lovely abstract messes with acrylics and spends countless hours turning blank papers into colored-wax masterpieces with his crayons. Unfortunately, those crayons often end up off-paper, so he gets to use washable crayons. So, I'm trying to get some laundry done. Little Man is happily lying on the floor, surrounded by pieces of paper and toy cars, a pile of well-used crayons at his side. I slip out ...

There is a fragile tension between helicopter parenting and allowing too much independence when it comes to parenting a toddler. I try to let Little Man play alone for short periods while I take care of the normal day-to-day household management, like dishes and laundry. And for the most part, it works perfectly! Yesterday, while I put away groceries, Little Man wandered upstairs to his bedroom. I could hear his toddler feet pounding the floor above me as he ran back and forth through the room. The crashing as hard, plastic and metal playthings were thrown from his toy box. And then, silence. Silence, of course, is the bane of every toddler parent's existence. Silence could mean that he's fallen asleep. It seems to happen instantly. I'll find him lying on his face, sprawled across the floor, a toy in one hand, the other tucked up under his little body. So adorable! Or, it could mean he's doing something he knows will get him into trouble. Like sneaking into the mast...

"You know what's really gross?" When asked by a nine-year-old, this question could be going in many different directions. In the case of my Kit Kat, it could be going literally anywhere . Because her mind plays with words and ideas in a way that sometimes makes mine boggle. It could be the setup for a joke. Generally, her jokes that start with these kinds of statements are pretty terrible, but every now and then she'll pull off one that's so brilliant that it keeps her going through all of the terrible jokes to follow.  It could also be a pun, possibly a play on the word "gross." I'm not sure if she knows that a "gross" is a unit of measurement, from the Germanic word for "large, great." It could be a combination of those two: "You know what's really gross? 144 dead mice in a microwave." Ugh. That would be gross. But then, it's just as likely to be the opening to a conversation about something she's see...

Little Man has this terribly annoying habit. If I tell him to go anywhere (go to the couch, go to the potty, go to your room, get out of the cat's litter box, etc.), he freezes. I call it his "Play Dead" routine. Once frozen, he doesn't move. Doesn't make a sound. And doesn't respond in any way to bribery, threats, or cajoling. Offering snacks, treats, or juice does absolutely nothing at this point! Zero reactions. Stating a consequence and counting 5 does nothing. He is a tiny statue, barely breathing. His eyes don't even twitch, remaining fixed on whatever point they rested when I asked him to move himself. I wonder, does he think I am a T-Rex? That my vision (and memory) is based on whether he is moving or not? Perhaps that was a strategy that worked for him while he was in day care? Maybe Miss Tanya was part Tyrannosaur and didn't notice him frozen in a corner as she herded the other tiny mammals in his former day care class to and from different...

Little Man loves to test the boundaries. He learned to use the potty regularly in February, but does he? Of course not! Many days, his tiny toilet sits unused in the corner as he insists on going through his entire collection of reusable diapers. All 40 of them. Which makes for a fun extra wash day, I tell you! Today is exceptional in that he didn't demand a diaper! He actually asked for his panties! I'm so glad we got him character underwear in both Minions and Cars, along with the normal training pants. Cars were his favorites, but over the past few weeks he's become obsessed with Minions. Meen-yon, as he calls them. Bah-dees! Well, now it's 1pm. He's peed through every pair of Bah-dees. Which, of course, puts into motion a chain of stop-the-presses-run-to-the-potty-change-into-new-panties-clean-up-the-mess. EVERY. FREAKING. TIME. For 5 pairs of underpants. I'm definitely pulling out the carpet next year. That is, provided he's fully potty trained. Tha...