An Apology to My Toddler

Dear Toddler,

I am imagining your two-year-old face as I sit here thinking about all of the things I need to say sorry for as your mother. Well, I actually don’t have to imagine because you are currently climbing all over me saying “mom, mom, mom, mom.”

An apology lettter to my toddlerBack to typing.

I am sorry for upsetting you when I asked you to finish the rest of your food last night. You asked specifically for Mac & Cheese, and I made you organic pizza bites from scratch instead. I totally understand why you felt frustrated and proceeded to react like a ninja, chucking your delicious food (that I can’t eat and drool over) across the table and dumping your water on the floor.

I will try harder next time and not waste my time. Mac & Cheese it is. For life.

I also want to say sorry for not letting you make your own eggs the other day. Your older sister screamed bloody murder for me while I had been in the shower for approximately 2.5 seconds telling me you were making eggs. I panicked and dashed out of the shower without a towel and streaked across our kitchen naked (pretty sure the neighbor saw me) to grab you off of the island before you cracked open another egg or broke a bone. I may have overreacted.

Also, I’m sorry for taking away my favorite brand-new, thirty-dollar red lipstick from you. I wanted to salvage the last bit left that wasn’t smashed on your face, neck, stomach, and toes. I am sorry for making you feel like you had to throw yourself onto the ground and thrash your body like a human tornado.

I’m also sorry for our nightly ritual of brushing your teeth. I know you hate it which is why you spit the toothpaste slobber that’s in your mouth directly into my face like a hose on full blast. I do get upset when I have to wipe away a shower of toothpaste particles from my face, hair, and sometimes mouth. Maybe I shouldn’t be shocked every time. Sorry kid.

The other day when you managed to remove and dump out the entire contents of the bottom rack of the dishwater, I did get a tiny bit upset and say “noooo!” while smashing my hands on my face in horror. I am sorry for saying “no” …I should have said, “no thank-you” as I did with your oldest sister while following all of the parenting rule-books to a “T.” Somewhere along the line between your two sisters and you, I lost my way.

Do you remember a few weeks back when your two-year-old-self climbed up the counter top to where I keep my sugar and flour and you decided to make your grandma a cake? I am sorry you had to see my body convulse and shrink into a corner while I was crying like a baby. I know you were confused because you were having the best of times. I should have been a good mommy, relaxed a bit, and joined the fun. Next time kid, next time.

Another thing I feel awful about is when I locked myself in the bathroom for just a moment to pee in isolation. You were banging on my door and shoving your tiny fingers through the cracks while screaming, “Mommy, let me in! Mommy, let me in!” I’m sorry I didn’t let you in for the two minutes I was without you while relieving myself. I’m sorry you felt like you needed to kick the door with your two-year-old foot and I genuinely hope you didn’t hurt yourself. I’m sorry if you did.

There was also this time not too long ago that you took apart the vacuum somehow and emptied the carpet debris back on the floor and started playing in it. I’m sure you saw on my face that I was officially losing my mind when I yelled “staaaaap it,” sat you on the couch, made myself another cup of coffee, and just sat on the floor while staring blankly at the wall. I’m sorry for not letting you play in a weeks worth of dust, debris, and dog hair.

And finally, I am sorry for not buying you the 15 different toys you wanted the other day at Target. I know how badly you wanted that basketball, football, golf club, light saber, stuffed lion, guitar, Lego set and air soft gun. I know it made your life feel incomplete when I didn’t drop 400 dollars on you, which caused you to violently scream so loud that people in the dollar section wondered what was going on.

I’m sorry I made you feel like you needed to yell that way. I should always buy you everything you see regardless of our current financial state. Obvi.

Will you forgive me?

Love,
Your Real Mother

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Creator of Real Mother. Wife, mom of 3 and a fur babe. A little blunt. A little short. A little addicted to coffee.
2 Comments
  1. Kendra,
    Thank you for giving this momma the gift of comic relief! I can’t remember the last time an article made me laugh this hard. My son’s only 14-months old, but I’m starting to experience some of the scenes you so perfectly described. Thank you for this fun, honest and hilarious perspective.

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