My toddler has been talking for quite some time now. Yelling in professional babble tongue. Screaming in dying banshee manner. And above all else, asking for ice in the cutest manner possible.
However, with that being said – her screaming, “Mom!” is not the funnest thing ever. And unfortunately, she learned it from her older brother, which makes it even worse.
It was a typical morning in my household. I was making a hearty breakfast of unburnt scrambled eggs.
My little one digging in the pot cupboard, annoyingly making “music” while screaming at the top of her lungs. My oldest upstairs yelling at Subnautica.
Breakfast was complete and little miss all over the place was nested in her highchair, Sesame Street on the TV.
Sighing I get ready for my day and sit at my computer, booting everything up, when at the top of her lungs she yells, “Mom!”
“adjfhajdhfajdhfadufehaljdfh!” Her hands flying all over the place.
It was at the moment when it hit me. There’s going to be another person in the house yelling, “mom!”
And sure as hell, there is.
Brushing my teeth?
Quickly followed by toddler babble insanity.
Washing my face?
Quickly followed by pants pulling and toddler babble.
Followed by both of her hands reaching for my drink. In turn becoming a tug-o-war in which the drink becomes the innocent bystander.
In the kitchen cooking?
She’s not far behind yelling, “Mom!”
If I’m even breathing, it’s followed by “Mom!”
And when I tell you I wasn’t ready yet, I wasn’t ready.