Another 10 Ways You Know You’ve Got a Toddler on Your Hands and How to Get it Off

out_damned_spot.jpgA couple weeks ago Steve Almond over at Baby Daddy, whose one year old daughter Josie is about a week older than Adam, posted about how his little girl is growing up and is no longer a baby. He also listed out the 10 ways you know you’ve got a toddler on your hands. (I’ve found that when I get toddler on my hands the only things that will get it off is a combination of red wine and Comedy Central after he’s in bed. Classy … I know.) Now, if there’s one thing I strive for with my blog it is originality, subject matter autonomy, droll observations, witty self-flagellation, obscure pop culture references, and proof that my Microsoft Word Thesaurus plug-in is functioning (OK that’s six things) but I just can’t resist using Steve’s template to list out my own 10 ways you know you’ve got a toddler on your hands.

For those of you with would-be toddlers in pre-ambulatory, quadrupedal or forearm pulling themselves around the house like Sean Connery’s death scene in The Untouchables stages of forward motion you can use this list as either an early warning system or as social justification for discouraging walking by carrying them everywhere for the rest of their lives. (“Dad, come on, I’m gonna be late for my college entrance exams.” “I’m too tired Jack, get your mother to carry you.)

It seems like only yesterday that Kathleen was delivering Adam by herself above the toilet in the upstairs bathroom while I did the time-honored Chicken With Its Head Cut Off Dance, very popular at Weddings, Bah Mitzvahs and Regional KFC Holiday Parties; and now if we even look away for a second he’s splashing his hands in the sacred waters of the same toilet (which, for new readers, is actually a the mouth of a traversable wormhole that connects to the Gamma Quadrant on the other side of the Universe.)

Adam has thus become a devout follower of the teachings of Toddlerism and demonstrates his beliefs in the following ways:

1. He’s got a passionate inquisitive drive to understand the world around him. What’s in the bottom of this garbage can underneath these coffee grounds? What would happen if I chew the paper off this annoying thing with buttons that keeps saying Hola? How would the cat react if I lay on top of him then pull out handfuls of fur?
2. By waking up at 2:00 in the morning, grabbing the rails of his crib like the top rope of a wrestling ring and yelling incomprehensible yet intimidating WWE inspired threats until Mommy lifts him from the squared circle while Daddy prepares his late night victuals.
3. By using a method of mobility that goes run, stumble, recover, walk, bang against door jam, stumble, fall, get up, run, trip on toy, fall, get up, walk, stumble, recover, slam forehead into corner of dining room table, fall, cry, get up, etc.
4. Answering the question, “How cute are you?” with a sly grin, upturned hands and a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders that suggests either “I don’t know…” or “For the right price I’ll be as cute as you want me to be.”
5. Is learning to express himself through sound and the rudiments of vocabulary “Daaaa Daaaa Daaaa….” can mean either Dad, Pick me up, I’m tired or I’m gonna be late for my college entrance exams. “Naaaa Naaaa Naaaa Naaaa …” can mean either I’m hungry, I’m walking here, why is there a rubber band holding this cabinet of poisonous cleaning agents shut, or Hey Hey Hey Goodbye. “Maaaa Maaaa Maaaa….” can mean either Mom, why did you put all the cookbooks up where I can’t reach them, I’m hungry or how did I do on my college entrance exams.
6. After Kathleen changes his diaper on the living room floor, ever since he began trying to leap from the changing table like a Hawaiian Cliff Diver, he takes the burritoed dirty Pamper from Kathleen, walks it into the kitchen, opens the cabinet door under the sink and throws it in the garbage.
7. Climbs onto the couch then tries to make the Evel Knievel Snake River Canyon leap to the love seat using the ottoman as a launching pad.
8. Has special needs hair in that the back of his head looks like Gene Wilder’s tub drain while the front looks like angel hair pasta therefore giving the illusion of a Chia Pet caught half-way under a steamroller.
9. Has an unnatural relationship with the vacuum. Well, not so much the vacuum as much as the vacuum’s accessories and extension tubes.
10. Is either playing Seven Minutes in Heaven with a box of Cheerios or the cereal cabinet is actually an otherworldly passageway to Narnia.

So, add these 10 with Baby Daddy’s list and I think we’re well on our way to creating a comprehensive profile to identify when you have a toddler on your hands. Personally, I think I better open another bottle of Merlot. Who would have thought the toddler to have so much energy in him? Out damn’d spot. Out I say!

Anyone else have toddlers on their hands or maybe just a corkscrew?


Follow me to Narnia. Aslan awaits.


25 thoughts on “Another 10 Ways You Know You’ve Got a Toddler on Your Hands and How to Get it Off

  1. Fresh out of corkscrews (hidden by someone who shall remain nameless in whatever toddlerish-hell hiding place things like that go to suffer a slow death), but I have an almost-4 who still subscribes to the tenets of toddlerhood.

    So I feel your pain.

  2. Oh, dear lord. How happy am I that NaBloPoMo exists and I have found you?

    You are making me laugh like a hyena with a mental disorder.

    We have a rubber band cabinet. Braden likes to pay the blues on it. And he, too, enjoys the “I’m practicing my belly flop” off the diaper area.

    Check out this post by him. 😉

  3. You’re just getting started my friend. Your guy is awfully cute though. And you are correct, Merlot is a tried and true remedy, for all toddler ails.
    And it still works, although a martini straight up is a lot quicker, when they hit preschool.
    Found you via NaBlo. Love your blog.

  4. Lisa: Thanks. Somedays it seems the toddler days will never be over though:

    Lightspring: Voldemort hid your corkscrew in center field at the Polo Grounds?

    Sarcastic mom: I feel the same way about you and many other people I’ve met through Nablopomo. Hyenea with a mental disorder? Ha! That Braden is one hell of a writer … I will not be letting Adam read that post though. I’m sure you understand.

    Karen: That’s the key though isn’t. Speed of alcohol transfer. Wine is leisurely stroll, the dirty martini though is a dead sprint. I’m all for the sprint. Let’s get to the good stuff as soon as possible.

    Avery: Have you friend me yet? If not, I’ll seek you out and send a request. Thanks for reading and appreciating my pain.

  5. Once again I’m able to crack a smile at a late night get the kiddo back to sleep moment.

    My child, though not a toddler, suffers from number 8. I call it the duck butt hair syndrome. Hehe.

    I have a dear friend with a near 3 year old and he LOVES number 7, no matter how many times he misses and hits the floor head first.

    *hands over a corkscrew*

  6. ahhhhhhhhhh – my third is in the toddler stage, but she’s way to girly for all that…hahahaha

    she’s figured out the princess routine all too well.

    my way to releax is almost like yours, minu the wine and comedy central (though if chepelle was stilling putting out episodes i’d watch)…it’s carpoolers…

    keep up the dailies!

  7. thebutton: duck butt hair syndrome, huh? I hear there’s no cure for that one. Glad I could be part of a late night smile, they’re tough to come by sometimes. I’ve got to start buying twist-top wine at this rate.

    Jonathon: My kingdom for a little girl. The dailies are killing me at this point. I’m doing the nablopomo things and at day 4 I’m questioning the sense of that decision. From two posts a week to seven? I’m a dipshit…really.

    Pete: Well, that’s one way to look at it I suppose? We really should lock that cabinet, but I’m just a lazy SOB sometimes.

  8. It’s where the hair on the back of his head refuses to lay flat, but doesn’t stick straight out either. The shape of it looks like a duck butt 😛

  9. thebutton: I love it. I’ll be “borrowing” duck butt syndrome and giving you appropriate credit based on the response I get. 😉

  10. imaginary binky: is that good or bad? The wah wah wah’s always seemed droning. It does look like Gene Wilder’s tub drain though, all blond curls matted down and swirled together… either that or art garfunkel’s hair brush.

  11. We are in toddler-ville, or as I like to call it, “Hell.”
    Logan leaps off practically anything. Chairs, sofas, stairs, beds, his sister, the cat, us, slides, swings, tables, counters…
    The kid isn’t even 2.
    I gave birth to a monkey.

    His speech is all garbled. Except in the middle of the night when, “Mommy! Daddy!” are screamed clear as a bell. We plod in and see him in his toddler bed (had to give up the crib), his smile growing from behind the pacifier. Quietly he swoons, “Moooooommy.”

  12. moxie-mom: Our 13 month old toddler is also part primate. 2:00am every morning he too yells from the crib (still in the crib at this point). How do kids live passed two? Really. Their lives seem dedicated to destroying themselves?

  13. Our boy is just past all that but our little girl is just on her way into it – pulled down her breakfast on top of herself this morning as I turned my back to get the highchair – when I thought she couldn’t reach it yet.

  14. mitchmolk: Walked in on Adam this morning in the toy room standing on the table again. Clueless as to how he got up there. Stay Strong. They can reach everything.

  15. Hi again – on the table huh? A friend’s baby gets up on her sewing table – scissors, needles, pins, not to mention the overlocker – scary stuff! FYI, it’s “m i c h” – no stress, but thought you might like to know!

  16. michmolk: Thanks for correcting me. I hate to get names wrong: Yeah, he’s a climber. Pretty much anything and everything and he’s determined. Works at it until he gets it. The overlocker? I have no idea what that is, but it doesn’t sound like any place for a baby 🙂

  17. Might be called something different “over there” but it’s the thing what does the zig-zaggy bits on the edge of your clothes to stop material fraying – you learn something new every day huh!? You probably don’t have time, but feel free to drop in to our blog anytime. Not quite as literary as yours but you might find something of interest…

  18. Hi, just found your blog and can totally relate. I have a 5 yr old and a 9 month old. Trust me, the preschool stage is worse when it comes to energy…..the boy wears me out! My 9 month old isn’t quite at the toddling status yet….he just learned to crawl a few weeks ago….but it certainly won’t be long. He already displays a few items from your list.
    I’ll join you on the merlot. 🙂

  19. Pingback: Pieces of Gold, Pieces of Silver | Freaked-Out Fathers

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