Honey, I Am Traumatized.

Remember this post where I was accosted by a woman who said my child was perfect? This is dedicated to her.

Today was no fun. Well, part of today was no fun. The toddler decided that she would showcase every aspect of being two years old in one short 12 hour span. First, she started out being hilarious. She happily ate her “breakfast cookies”, known to the rest of the world as peaches. During a diaper change she sweetly handed me a wipe and asked me to “clean me butt!” Later when I asked her to nap she made ridiculous snoring noises and yelled “Me nap. See! Look at me (eyes wide open) I sleeping!”

My own personal and portable comedian. Then, it all changed. She flipped on me. “I watch Little Bear. NOOOW!!!” Five seconds later, “I done watch Little Bear.” Five more seconds later, “Me watch Little Bear!!” (This one included a quivering lip and giant watery blue eyes). In a matter of a couple hours she made a baby cry (pushed her), me cry (she opened the door at a children's store and was about to run onto a very busy street) and herself cry (see Little Bear debacle above).

By the time we all got home and ate dinner the hubs and I were waiving our white flags. I settled behind my desk to write and chat with friends in my own little time out corner, trying my best to block out the rest of the world.

 The hubs had gone into terror toddler’s room to do the quiet reading/lay in bed/ maybe go to sleep thing. A few minutes in and I hear daddy say, in his very upset voice, "We DO NOT hit people!!!” Uh oh. Out comes hubby with a wooden honey bear in hand and blood dripping from his brow followed closely by a screeching toddler yelling “Daddy! Where are yooooouuu???

Double uh-oh. He goes to stop the bleeding while I try to talk some sense into our child. As you can imagine, that went well. She clearly felt bad but I am sure he felt much worse. You know, bleeding and all.

Here is where my guilt comes in. Many many years ago, pre-baby, hubster fell ill. Flu, Ebola, the jury is still out. Either case he was SICK. I, because I love and adore him, tried to cure him. I also tend to avoid too many medicines and always take the natural route first. So, I purchased a honey based elixir. Let’s just say that his non-pukey illness quickly turned into a pukey one after taking the honey infused potion. It took several years before he could stomach honey again.

Enter the wooden honey bear wielding toddler stage left. He may never ever for the rest of his life (and the one after that) consume or even be in the same room with honey again.

Sorry, Honey.

My sweet husband is on the mend now. I cleaned and swaddled his wound. The toddler is watching the new Winnie-The-Pooh movie (we fear her wrath and she sweetly requested it. No problem, kid, just put down that wooden toaster). If you see me playing in the park with my little girl in full riot gear, just say hi and slowly walk away.