My days are full of pee and poo and weird things in the mouth lately. Yesterday, I pried a Greenie out of my two year old daughter's mouth. If you have a dog, you know these foul smelling, slightly greasy chewy biscuits are supposed to freshen their breath. I suppose my toddler was investigating this. The funny thing is, that recently it has become such a common occurrence to find her trying strange and disgusting things that immediately after my "oh GROSS!" reaction I find myself going...hmmm, is there something missing from her diet? Cat food, dog food, stickers, bits of crumbling wall, kitty litter. The list goes on. I know, it's teething, it's curiosity, it's attention, it's tiring. What about the infamous fancy French Sophie Giraffe chewy toy? The beautifully hand-crafted, personalized wooden teether? The organic cotton soft knotted teething blankie? Nope. Of course, she prefers to test out the dogs cheap plastic toy, the dirty sock she won't keep on, the insole from my worn-out slippers. And she runs faster and laughs harder when I chase her to get it back.
I know it's nothing new. People have been having babies forever. Which of course means, they have had two year olds forever. But how do they do it? Everyone says, "Good luck-2?" They say "In a year-she will magically be perfectly behaved, listen and you will have many funny stories to look back on and laugh." Great! It's only month 2. I have 10 more to go!
Don't get me wrong. I laugh a lot these days too. In fact, I think more often I reach for the camera first before the washcloth. I will have dozens of said funny stories to tell and photos to prove them. But it is work. And diligence. A relative who is an early childhood educator told me, if it fits in a paper towel tube it poses the risk of becoming lodged in a child's throat. A paper towel tube? Seriously? Try it, walk around your home with one and see what fits. EVERYTHING is a choking hazard! In addition, in a household with pets and art supplies, well if it's not in the paper towel tube-danger zone then it's the toxic zone, or fragile,or sharp or can topple over and crush your child zone. So what to do? Put it away, put it up high, go outside. Ok, that's dandy in a suburban McMansion with ample closets and sprawling yards. In a 1.5 bedroom city apartment? We ran out of closets before our kid was even born. In a city kitchen, counter tops are virtually non-existent, and we are running out of shelves above the 48 inch mark. Oh no, she's not exceptionally tall but she is able to drag what little furniture we have around to climb onto. I may have more gray hairs but I think my peripheral vision is improving.
Ideally we'd like to spend every day walking to the playground, exerting energy. Or running through the park to the library, listening to music at various cafes. This reminds me of a comment a neighborhood parent once made when we were discussing naps...or lack there of. "You have to just walk them all over the neighborhood and tire them out, inside your house is where all the dangers are." This keeps resonating in my head lately as I scoop my daughter and/or her toys out of the cat's litter box. Funny how sidewalks littered with shards of glass, chicken bones from take out and of course, dog poop become the safer choice. Of course, she's right, kids are active and the more space and air the better. But it gets harder during the cold winter when the daily jacket and boot-wresting match seems longer than the time actually spent outside. Cold hands make a kid unhappy and a parent cranky. Well, after putting into storage anything we do not want banana varnish on and donning a cheap, and more importantly-washable-table from IKEA, we realized it really is just patience. Patience, humor and of course, more damp washcloths to wash off the messy hands and face.
So we do it, day by day, shrugging off the sticky TV and windowsills, the shriveled up cheerios behind the furniture. We laugh off the stains on our clothes, the pooping under the kitchen table (not in the potty, of course!), the frequent clothing changes and the foot baths in the dogs water bowl. We stock up on cheap flour and washable paints for rainy day art projects. (We leave our own art projects involving permanent markers or knitting needles until after bedtime-whenever that may be..) We read a lot, we have our own indoor dance parties, we make fun messes. We just get better acquainted with the broom and dustpan and with our sense of humor. Yes, that's it. And look, we're nearing month three and I'm already laughing at January's photos of her with paint from head to toe. I love my kid!
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