Toddler Raises Hell Without Apology, Mother In Tears.

Today at a local indoor playground, video surveillance picked up footage of this two-year-old girl standing next to a toy car, actively preventing other children from playing with it.

surveillance footage of toddler

“She looks like she’s going to cut a bitch,” a bystander remarked.

“Look at that side eye,” said the mother of an unnamed victim. “I told my kids to stay away from her! She’s dangerous.”

“I’ve always bragged about how sweet she is,” her mother wailed. “But clearly those days are over.”

The perpetrator allegedly dragged another child out of the play vehicle while screaming “MY CAR!” The victim ran away in tears.

Later, she terrorized a group of children playing in a pretend grocery store, taking plastic bananas and apples from their toy shopping carts without apology.

In her final act of abomination, the toddler climbed up the slides until her mother finally lured her away with promises of Goldfish crackers.

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The perp with her siblings.

If you or someone you know has been affected by this tiny tyrant, please call the Save Me From This Toddler hotline at 888-888-HELL.

Pepper

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Toddleritis.

For approximately 6 weeks, I have felt like I just cannot get it together.

I’m forgetting things. I’m struggling to get simple tasks accomplished, like keeping food in the house and making sure Maverick’s school uniforms are clean. Robbie would ask me something like, “Where are all my boxers?” and I would get irrationally angry.

At first I thought I was just tired from the holidays. Then, I thought it was probably because I’m trying to write and get published more, and that takes time and energy.

Maybe I was anemic. My mother-in-law asked if I have had my thyroid checked recently … maybe it was that. Maybe I’m not sleeping well enough.

I bought some ZzzQuil.

My mother asked me on several occasions, “Are you okay?” or, “Why are you so tired?” I could never come up with a good answer, because what am I supposed to say?! I HAVE KIDS. But my husband was starting to give me concerned looks, and I was starting to wonder about myself. What was my problem?! Did I need to cut back on writing? Did I need to start going to bed earlier? Take more vitamins?

And then, it dawned on me.

The toddler.

Pepper, with her always-sunny disposition, has become a true toddler. She runs from me, darting between my legs. Half of the time, when we are at home, I have no idea where she is. She’s a climber. She tries to touch the cooktop when I’m boiling eggs. She attempts to grab the hot frying pan. Tonight, she opened the oven when it was set to 425 fish-stick-cooking degrees.

She bites. She pulls everything out of every drawer, cabinet, basket, and box. She hits and pulls hair. I am forever grabbing her hands and reminding her, “Be gentle.”

She locks herself in rooms and closets. She learned how to open doors and loves to sneak into the bathroom to play in the toilet. She tries to strip herself naked.

She enjoys trying to dive headfirst into the bath tub when her brothers are taking a bath, but her very favorite thing is eating wet sand at the playground.

Pepper has started really talking. She screams “EAT!” or, “I HUNGRY!” when she needs food. She says “I SOWWY!” when she bites me. She exclaims “I DID IT!” and “HI, PEPPER!” because she mimics everything her older brothers say and do. This includes yelling “SHUT UP!” at inappropriate times. She also will randomly yell the word “poop.”

I am not anemic. I am not depressed or stricken with another bout of mono (I had a terrible case of it in high school). It’s an even graver condition, I’m afraid. One that will last another 12, maybe 18 months.

I have toddler.

Pepper does not enjoy being judged.

Pepper does not enjoy being judged.

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The Baby Is Not A Baby Anymore.

“The baby,” who isn’t actually a baby anymore and I guess I need to stop calling her that, crawled at 10 months.

Exactly 7 months later, she started walking. It also turns out that she’s quite the climber.

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I am so relieved to have use of my arms again. So, so relieved. Picking her up and hauling her all over the place — because when you’re trying to walk into a store with an unpredictable three-year-old, you have to have the other one either strapped in a cart or on your hip — has given me unprecedented upper-body strength. I can do man push-ups. Okay, only like three. But STILL.

And while I am so excited to finally close the door on all things baby in this house, I admit that I’m also so sad about it. My last child has truly turned into a toddler overnight who drunkenly wanders the house saying “Bye-bye! Cracker?”

She sings, she laughs, and she is a complete and utter joy. Except when she’s trying to eat Cascade gel packs, or when she watches me lace up my shoes and unties one while I tie the other one, and then when I re-tie that one she unties the other one. I mean, it’s cute now that it’s over and I’m telling you about it, but when I’m in a hurry and I can’t get my damn shoes tied and Asher is standing by the door screaming “I DON’T WANT MY CLOTHESES TO TOUCH ME!” it’s not cute.

At all.

I’ll never have another baby-turned-toddler again. This is it, and I’m glad … but also there is a part of me that wishes I could make it stop. Just for a moment.

I’ll never again have the joy of seeing one of my children take their first steps. Now there will be new firsts, each one taking them farther away from babyhood. And to be honest, I’m relieved because this has been incredibly hard. But also, I need to have a good cry about it.

This is the beginning of goodbyes, and everything about it is bittersweet.

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