Blog Archive

Thursday, July 30, 2015

Belly laughs: The best parts of parenting toddlers

It's no secret that parenting toddlers is hard. They require CONSTANT supervision, they're mobile, they're fast, and they're always getting into things they shouldn't be. They often want to do things that are a pain in the ass for you (like go outside and play in the pool -- okay, just let me fill the pool, put you in your swimsuit and swim diaper, get all the pool toys out, get you the cup of juice that you're going to ask for twenty seconds after we get outside, cover you in sunscreen and put up the sun shade, put your hat on, get your shoes on, get my shoes on, go outside, put you in the pool ... oh, now you want to watch Elmo? NO YOU'RE PLAYING IN THE POOL GODDAMMIT AND YOU ARE GOING TO LIKE IT.), and they can be unholy terrors when they don't get what they want.

But they're also the best little people on the planet. Because Audrey makes me laugh like I haven't laughed in years.

Now, I'm not some unhappy miser with a shit life. I laugh a lot. But I'm telling you right now, the way that I laugh at a good joke or a funny movie is COMPLETELY different from the uncontrolled, boisterously happy laughter that comes out of me when I'm playing with Audrey.

So here comes a really happy post about some of the moments where I just completely lose myself in giggly belly laughs with my daughter:

When she tries to wash her butt

When Audrey takes a bath, she now likes to have the faucet running continuously while she's in there. I turn it way down to barely more than a trickle, but I let it run because it makes her happy and costs me very little. And she gleefully puts her toys under the faucet, and fills her Elmo cup, washes her hands over and over again, and accidentally turns on the shower and then gets angry when it sprays her head.

But I will never forget the first time she stood up and backed that ass up until the water from the faucet was running directly down her little buttcrack. 

It was hysterical.

The funniest part, I think, was the look on her face. She was not smiling or laughing. She was not doing this to be funny. She just wanted to wash her butt.

She then took it to the next level one hot summer day when we were out front playing bubbles. She had made a huge mess with the bubbles, getting bubble liquid all over both of us and various items in the garage, so I turned on the front hose faucet (which had no hose attached) and was rinsing off the soapy items under the water. Audrey came over and started sticking her hands under the faucet too.

For some reason, like a true idiot, I believed that Audrey would do her best to keep her clothing dry the same way you or I would when dressed in non-swimming attire. I don't know why I believed this -- I've seen her sit down in a swimming pool while wearing a normal disposable diaper and a dress -- but believe it I did.

So imagine my surprise when Audrey, wearing a t-shirt and basketball shorts, turned around and backed dat ass up under the hose faucet like she was going to wash her buttcrack again.

I lost it. I haven't laughed that hard in a long time.

Oh, Audrey. 

When she makes a Level 10 Five Alarm mess

There are messes that make you shout "NONONONONO!" because there's still some level of tragedy that is preventable -- like when something is in the act of spilling, or when tiny hands or feet are juuuuust about to smear the mess onto a much larger area.

And then there are the messes that are so vast and horrific that there isn't anything you can do anymore except laugh.

When a full plate of ketchup-coated dinner gets tossed off a high chair tray and hits the ground with enough force to coat the entire floor within a five foot radius, you laugh.

When a naked toddler running wild upstairs lets out a ten gallon pee all over your bedroom carpet, you laugh.

When a Big Gulp-sized cup is filled with bathwater and dumped all over you as you kneel outside of the bathtub, you laugh.

You have to.

The other day, we were at a party at my parents' house and Audrey was eating cupcakes. She is a BIG fan of cupcakes.

... and cake pops. Mmmmm.

When she decided that she wanted more cupcakes after dinner, she wasn't going to take no for an answer.

I told her no over and over again. She'd had way too much sugar by that point, and we needed to pack up and go home. We were taking a few cupcakes home with us, so I reminded her that she could have some cupcake tomorrow and then I set the box of cupcakes up on the tray of the high chair she was no longer sitting in. You know, where she couldn't reach them.

BIG MISTAKE. She stood on her tiptoes, reached up, and grabbed the edge of the box, flipping them down onto the floor. All five cupcakes fell out of the box. And all five cupcakes landed top-down on the hardwood.

I f***ing lost it. I stood there staring at the ruined cupcakes (seriously, the beautifully soft creamy cupcakes' frosting was little more than a series of splatters at that point) and started laughing so hard I had to sit down. I didn't make any move to clean up the cupcakes until the dog wandered over and started moving in on them ... at which point I scraped the icing off the floor, put it back on the cupcakes, gave a piece of one to the now-sobbing Audrey, and took the rest home for me and Jesse to eat.

We're not too good for floor cupcakes.

And all that icing turned Audrey's poop bright blue for three days afterwards.

When she accuses someone of pooping

Audrey does not fully understand that pooping and farting are different bodily functions. She often confuses them, which results in me and Jesse being accused of shitting ourselves.

I find this endlessly hilarious.

One morning, Audrey and I were puttering around in the kitchen when I farted. Yeah yeah, I know, I'm a girl ... but it happened. It was the only time in my entire life, I swear.

Audrey heard the fart, of course, and immediately ran up to me and announced "Mommy did a poopoo!" I giggled and corrected her that Mommy did not, in fact, do a 'poopoo' but instead had done a 'toot toot.'

Audrey took this information and thought deeply about it, looking at me with curiosity and concern. And then she said the words that I can still hear in my head, in her sweet little toddler voice: "Mommy did ... a poop? No poopoo but ... a poop?"

I died. That was it. I could live no longer. She just knew that I had shit my pants and was trying to cover it up by claiming that it was merely a fart. Maybe my crimes did not rise to the level of 'poopoo,' but surely at minimum a poop had occurred.

Surely a poop!

Jesse farted in the bathroom one day while Audrey was having a bath. "Daddy did a big poop!" she announced, and I laughed so hard I almost peed myself.

He farted in bed one morning while we were all cuddled up. "Daddy went poopoo in bed!" He proclaimed his innocence, to which she responded "Daddy pooped in bed!"

It's funny every single time

When we create a blizzard of bubbles

Neither Audrey nor I have any talent at blowing bubbles with a regular wand, so I bought a couple of battery-powered bubble guns that use fans to do what our stupid mouths apparently can't. 

When Audrey and I play with them, things get completely out of hand. Two people blasting bubbles out of bubble guns in the same area at the same time ... within seconds, the two of us are completely engulfed. Literally hundreds of bubbles floating around us like an insane snowstorm made of happiness and childish wonderment. Audrey gets excited and starts trying to pop the bubbles. Her excitement is absolutely contagious, and before I know it, I am laughing with pure joy too as the storm of bubbles begins to settle around us and pop.

Bubbles are just ... happy.

So I dip my bubble gun again, and I make more.

And my daughter squeals with laughter.

And I am so happy I could just burst.

Having kids is a lot of work, but man does it ever have its moments. If a coworker accused me of pooping my pants, or if a friend dropped an entire cake upside down on the ground, or even if Jesse and I sat outside filling the air with bubbles, it would never make me laugh like this. But add a touch of childish innocence to the equation, and we find ourselves in the land of belly laughs.

I love it here.

No comments:

Post a Comment