Smithville Review Mother, Interrupted column #2: "Tips from Toddlers"

The past week, my 2 year old daughter has impressed me with her observations and ability to remember things. It’s made me realize that toddlers are a lot smarter than most people give them credit for. My daughter can tell us, from the backseat, when we are almost home. This doesn’t really help when we are lost in Nashville, but it’s impressive. She can count to 11 and knows her ABCs. When she counts her fingers, she skips around, but somehow always ends up with 5. Her ingenuity got me thinking. What would happen if toddlers could give each other advice? Maybe it’s a good thing it’s hard for them to be totally understood by other toddlers. Think about the tips they would have for each other. I think it would make parents’ lives a little bit harder…

What’s the best method of reaching that candy bar on the counter?

Using a stick to push it, along with everything else on the counter, to the floor.

Does this slice of bologna work the same as a game in the Playstation?

Of course. Stick it in the disk slot, and leave it there for Mom and Dad to find.

Is it safe to climb tall furniture?

Usually. Make sure the adults aren’t looking, and be very quiet.

My mom is busy doing school work. How can I stop this?

Get so close to her face that she can’t see the book/computer. Refuse to move.

My parents just bought me a new toy. What should I do next?

Forget the toy. Play with the box.

I don’t want this orange juice anymore. Where should I throw it?

It doesn’t matter, as long as you throw it.

What is the big deal about eating crayons?

No big deal. Relax, they’re non-toxic. Parents just don’t like it when your diaper is filled with red, blue, and yellow.

Why does my mom dress me in 5 layers when it’s 70 degrees outside?

Because she thinks you could “catch a cold.” I don’t know what this is, or how fast you’d have to run to catch it, but according to adults, it’s not good.

When it’s very quiet at a wedding or during church, how should I let my parents know I have to use the bathroom?

That’s easy. Yell whatever you need to do in the bathroom as loud as you can. When everyone turns to look at you, it’s because they think you’re cute. Trust me.

So let’s all take a moment to be thankful that “Stop it, that’s MY block!” is the extent of our toddlers’ conversations with each other, unless they have siblings.

Can you imagine the destruction that would happen if adults gave each other advice? Oh, wait…

You can email me to tell me you love/hate my column @ debra.carp@yahoo.com. If you want more Mother, Interrupted check out www.interruptedmum.blogspot.com!

My Smithville Review column Sept. 19th- The apple doesn't fall far from the tree

The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, even when the tree is way more well-behaved and definitely does not act like the apple—right??

By Debra Carpenter

debra.carp@yahoo.com

http://www.interruptedmum.blogspot.com

http://www.facebook.com/MotherInterrupted

I love when people tell me that my 2 year old daughter acts just like me. I prefer that they make this connection while she’s reciting her ABCs, counting, or doing something ridiculously cute. However, there are times when she acts less than well-behaved, and somehow people still think this behavior resembles my own. I have a few questions about that, just to clarify my understanding. Bear with me.

Does it really remind you of me when she throws a fit because there is no “chock-it” (chocolate) in her milk?

Does it bring me to mind when you see her run around the coffee table in circles while singing “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star?”

Is there any connection between my behavior and hers when she flatly orders you to “Shut. Up” after a gentle suggestion that she take a nap?

Do I really change topics frequently during conversation, like, “Mama, Huckle Cat is on the table and—BOAT. I want boat.”?

How does she remind you of me when she knows she’s done something wrong, and immediately upon seeing you approaching, blocks your view of her actions and says “No spanking, Mama. You no spank Molly”?

Well, okay. I guess I can see a slight resemblance there. But--

Mom, do you ever have a sense of déjà vu from my own childhood when you see her peel her diaper off in front of other people?

When she refuses to eat anything but macaroni and cheese for dinner?

When she tries to strangle the kitten that we so lovingly brought home—for HER?

You do?

Well, then. I suppose we have an interesting time ahead of us. In all seriousness, I am always flattered when someone thinks Molly is just like me. How could I not be? She is an incredible little girl. Whether she’s Miss Behaving or misbehaving, she is always my greatest joy.

My eagerness to be compared to my daughter may also have to do with the fact that I spent the first year of her life being bombarded with statements from everyone (including our parents, strangers, friends, and family) about how much she looked like my husband.

“My, my. That child looks like a female Michael.”

“Goodness, if I didn’t know better, I’d think I was looking at a little Michael!”

“Sorry, Debra, but that child looks just like her Daddy.”

“He sure can’t deny her!” (Duh. We’re married. Try denying that, Michael.)

And my personal favorite, when I try to bargain with the person about who Molly looks like:

Me: “Yeah, she does resemble him…but don’t you think she has my eyes?”

Them: “Nah, those are Daddy’s eyes. She’s got your eyebrows.”

Me: “Eyebrows? What? No. Look at her lips. Now look at mine. Aren’t they similar?”

Them: “No, honey, her lips look like Angelina Jolie’s.”

So, even ol’ Angelina gets credit for my daughter’s good looks, but not me. Talk about UPLIFTING!

Every now and then, some kind soul would lie to our faces and say she looked identical to me, but deep down, I knew the truth. This child is a physical clone of her father and a psychological clone of me.

Good thing he’s handsome, and I am relatively mentally stable—oh look, a BOAT! I want boat!

And I shall call it...wait, what should I call it

Some things come easily to me, and for these (few) things, I am thankful. Full of thank. Column-naming, however, is not one of them. Actually, naming in general is not one of my strong suits. I've been the proud owner of 3 animals that did not have names, unless you count "Black kitty", "That cat", and "Hey dog" as names. My current pet, a sweet kitten, is basically nameless.

It's not that I didn't try--no, the problem is, I tried too hard. I was told the cat's name was Mousers. No, I'm serious. So that, obviously, had to change. Before even meeting this kitten, I had a list of potential names. When we saw him, I realized that although Milo was a cute name, it didn't look like him. Neither did Captain, Binx, Otis, Mao, Percy, or Thomas. We finally decided on Huckle, which Molly still calls him, but we took too long. The naming window passed. The cat was doomed to be eternally nameless.

That brings me back to my point. My column will be featured in a big newspaper starting in January, and I was asked to come up with a clever name for it. I like Mother, Interrupted, but I want to choose a name that really seems like me. One that tells people, before they read it, what they're getting themselves into. A name that encompasses the essence of Debra. I've had a lot of ideas:

The Red Letter


Dirty Laundry

Good Judgement with Debra

Word Vomit

The D Word    (<---"Debra")
Unconventional Wisdom

Uncommon Sense

M.I.L.F. (jk)

Vital Information

...But none of these really hit the spot. Why am I so terrible at naming things? What if I never come up with a good name, and they print my column as "Untitled" by Debra Carpenter? What if I come up with a great name when I'm falling asleep and can't remember it when I wake up (that happened to me this morning!)? It's your responsibility, as a reader, to give me a great idea. Go on and email it to me, you creative son of a gun!

By the way, I'm really interested to know who my international readers are. I have readers in 14 countries, including Russia, Malaysia, China, Mexico, Korea, Peru, and Italy. If you are one of these people, please email me or leave a comment on this post! You make me feel super-cultured and posh, just by reading my blog.

Last, I'm sorry I haven't been posting lately. School takes more of my time than I remembered. Deadlines for newspapers, 2 year olds, and husbands also take up time, leaving my blog neglected and alone.
Better my blog than me, right? Am I right?

Love,
Debra

Sneak peek into upcoming column in Smithville Review

I love when people tell me that my 2 year old daughter acts just like me. I prefer that they make this connection while she’s reciting her ABCs, counting, or doing something ridiculously cute. However, there are times when she acts less than well-behaved, and somehow people still think this behavior resembles my own. I have a few questions about that, just to clarify my understanding. Bear with me.
Does it really remind you of me when she throws a fit because there is no “chock-it” (chocolate) in her milk?
Does it bring me to mind when you see her run around the coffee table in circles while singing “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star?”

Is there any connection between my behavior and hers when she flatly orders you to “Shut. Up” after a gentle suggestion that she take a nap?

Do I really change topics frequently during conversation, like, “Mama, Huckle Cat is on the table and—BOAT. I want boat.”?