The two-year-old: Complicated. Lovable. But most of all, psychotic.
January 28, 20058:30 p.m. Thursday. Henry is being tucked in for the night.
Henry: [scratching his ankle] I have an itch.
Me: [Applying hydrocortisone cream to the poor kid’s rashy leg.] How’s that?
Henry: You made it feel better.
Me: Well, I’m glad!
Henry: Thank you for the cream.
Me: [startled] You’re welcome, Henry.
Henry: Thank you for making my rash feel better. I love my Mommy. [Puts a hand out to touch my cheek.] You’re soft.
Me: Who are you and what did you do with my son?
8:30 a.m., Friday. Henry and I are eating oatmeal.
Henry: [sounding eerily like an air horn, if an air horn could speak] No, not this bowl!
Me: You want another bowl?
Henry: [weeping] No!
Me: [sipping my tea calmly while Henry glares at me through his tears of rage]
Henry: Don’t drink your tea!
Me: But I like my tea.
Henry: No--don’t like it!
Me: I’m going to go sit over there now. [I move to the couch. Wouldn’t you?]
Henry: Don’t sit over there! Stand up!
Me: [My resolve falling apart because he’s making his oatmeal soggier with his tears, I stand] Do you want me to sit with you?
Henry: Don’t stand up!
Me: [beginning to sit]
Henry: Don’t sit! Don’t stand!
Me: Ookay.
Henry: DON’T SAY OKAY!
Reader Comments (67)
These days when my 2-year-old sits on the toilet, she tells me, "Don't say yay to the poop." And we often have similar conversations to yours:"Mommy, whayou eating?""An apple.""No, don't eat an apple.""But I like it.""No, don't like an apple."
Thank you for your blog.
But enough about me. Thank GOD for this post. No wait, thank YOU!
See, my kid is adopted. And everything she does is seen through that lense by the (unnamed) experts, who freak out when she acts like she is a little younger than her chronological age, which is four. See, she has been really busy for the last seven months learning English, so she is not as mature as the average four year old but definitely more mature than a couple of four year olds I've met.
Anyway, she does this EXACT kind of stuff but the expert critique leaks into my thinking and I have to worry. Your stories about Henry help, because you seem incredibly normal to me, at least as normal as I aspire to be.
Also, I want to say that I am really glad you were convinced by your supporters not to go away. The price you pay for fame, even in the world of blogging, is that people can be incredibly nasty to you. The humor impaired really should stay off your blog. Your blog is not about or for them, and if it was, I would so not read your writing.
Some of the more popular bloggers simply turn off the comment option. If you ever feel like you have to do something about flamers and trolls, do that, but please stay, because the only thing worse than having Finslippy online would be losing Finslippy! (wait that doesn't sound right but you catch my drift.)
While we are potty training, I sometimes let my daughter run around the house without a diaper for a short time. She really enjoys this freedom, and she is very good about going to the potty when she is diaper free, at least about going pee pee. The other night, she was running around naked and I noticed her bring a diaper from her room and put her diaper on. A few minutes later, a familiar smell wafted through the air.As we changed her poopy diaper, I said, "You knew you had to go poo poo, so you went to put on a diaper?"She nodded yes."Why didn't you go potty?"She said, "I want to go pee pee on the potty."I answered, "and you don't want to go poo poo on the potty?"To this my wee daughter turned crew boss answered,"NO, MAMA go poo poo on the potty!"