Last month I invited you to take a peek into my joyous little world of raising a toddler. Meaning, not really all that joyous. Meaning, quite the opposite. Meaning, MY HELL.
Here’s another example for you.
(Please ignore the blurriness and the obvious fact that I haven’t mopped the floor in two weeks.)
It’s a tutu, for crying out loud. How can you be any sort of angry while wearing a tutu? I’d wear one every day if it was socially acceptable.
I know my family is looking at this and thinking to themselves, “Poor little baby. She’s so mistreated. What did Morgan do to her to upset her this time?!?” Well, I’ll tell you.
Me: Maddie, let’s put on your new tutu!
Maddie *slap-punch-giggle-run away*
Me: Madeline. Let’s put on your tutu.
Maddie: GOOGDLE! (this translates to “noodle”)
Me: We’ll watch Elmo and Mr. Noodle* later. Let’s put on your new tutu and get you some juice.
Maddie: JOOOOCE! JOOOOCE! GOOGDLE! JOOOOCE!
Me: *wrestles with 30lb child to get new tutu up and around kicking legs*
Maddie: JOOOOCE! *runs into kitchen, stands by refrigerator for 2 seconds, makes it known that juice has not been poured quickly enough*
See above photo.
*Mr. Noodle is by far, the creepiest part of Sesame Street. Nightmare inducing, even. I have a post dedicated to him, but I’m thinking of saving it for Halloween.