‘Twas the week before Christmas
and all through the little rental
EVERYONE was awake
and mama was mental…
(I’ll stop before the rhyming gets out of hand and blame that poetic interlude on sleep deprivation.)
It’s almost Christmas, and I’m stuffing stockings,
wrapping presents feeling anxiety about wrapping presents, and looking at packages that won’t pack and send themselves. Apparently I’m in charge of all this stuff.
Why isn’t it all coming together with big bows and advanced-planning?
Possibly because this guy is involved…
Until now, K-Pants thought Christmas was just like any other day. But now, he’s TWO! And Christmas is suddenly a glorious time filled with candy and lights and lollipops and treats and presents and cookies…
He’s like a toddler superhero with the vocabulary of a well-trained parrot, the stomach of a goat, and the self-discipline of a terrier. He finds ANY sugar in the house and spends most of the day shouting “MORE TREATS MAMA! MORE TREATS MAMA! TWO. MORE. TREATS. MAMAAAA!
If I say no, he just pushes up his little toddler chair to the counter and steals them off the tray.*
*Don’t worry, friends–there are consequences.
It all started at the beginning of the month when we made two batches of sugar cookies. He wanted all the dough, all the cookies, and all the crumbs.
He circled the stove like a vulture, waiting for fresh kill to come out. I knew there were only more cookies to come in December, so I let him have at it.
Go ahead, Mr. Pants. Eat all the cookies you want. More? Sure! How many? 17? You got it! See what your little tummy thinks about that: Muah ha ha ha haaaa!!!!
But then there were no digestive repercussions: no horrible tummy ache, no ensuing diarrhea.
Biology, why did you fail me? I needed the Pants to learn that you can’t eat sugar as your only food group.
And more and more cookies and chocolates have poured in to the house. I can’t make it stop. Mr. Pants has only eaten cookies or gold-foil wrapped chocolate coins for weeks. Yesterday he had some potato chips when we were out and I was happy that he was eating something savory.
Someone slap me! I’ve got to claw my way out of this craziness.
I also need to mail some packages, wrap some presents, and relearn what a vegetable is. So please accept my apologies for late gifts wrapped in coupon mailings and junk-mail envelopes. I’m busy looking for the produce aisle.