Suicidal Toddlers

This week I babysat the child of a friend of mine. A two year old boy. I generally am not a big fan of 2 year olds but this kid is pretty awesome. He is very cute and most importantly - potty trained. His dad dropped him off and I said, "Have a good time. I'll keep him alive!" This is the only thing I will promise the parents of kids that I am watching. I might fill them with junk, they may get dirty, they might even scrape a knee but they will be  alive (and fed) when you pick them up. Keeping a 2 year old alive is not a minor task. It's a huge undertaking. Two year olds are suicidal. They have no sense of self preservation. They try to jump down flights of stairs, will throw themselves onto concrete during a tantrum, like to stick airway blocking items in their mouths, try to figure out how to get their fingers into electric sockets, run into the street.....the list goes on and on and on. I have spent YEARS of my life making sure that my children didn't off themselves. In order to keep toddlers alive you have to keep an eye on them constantly. That's why most parents of 2 year olds have all kinds of stuff designed specifically to prevent their toddler from completely self destructing. Baby gates, outlet plug covers, toilet seat locks, cabinet locks. I don't have any of that crap. I don't fear that my kids are going to drown in the toilet anymore. As a result, my house is completely hazardous, a toddler death trap, so I could not take my eye away from this kid.

We live at the end of our neighborhood so it's a really quiet street so I figured it would be safe enough for us to take a walk. The 2 year old is just walking down the sidewalk like he rules it. He stops periodically to show us things. He demands that my oldest daughter walk up and down the neighbor's front stairs. Really -he makes her do it. I don't know how little people who can't even communicate effectively can make you do things, but they can. He grabbed my daughters hand and pointed to the stairs and said, "AT! AT!" She's looking at him and she says, "Those are stairs." He looks back at her like, "I know what the hell they are...." He is now more insistent "AT! AT!"  My daughter looks back at me and shrugs her shoulders. "I think he wants you to walk up and down the stairs." So she walks up and down the stairs and he is just so excited. He is shrieking and clapping his hands and jumping up and down. He was acting like it was the most exciting thing that ever happened to him.

When we get home he takes my hand and walks me over to the refrigerator and points at it. I open it up and he just stands there taking inventory. He points to a pudding. I open it up and we sit at the table. He was just loving it and he was doing a good job and it wasn't messy, so I was pleased. So while he eats his pudding, I try to start the dishes. When he is done, I go over and wipe his face and the front of his shirt is clean. But somehow he got globs of chocolate pudding all over his shirt sleeve, near this shoulder. Of course it was a white shirt and looked brand new. So I take his shirt off so I can wash it. When it comes off he starts rubbing his belly like "Well, hello skin, it's good to see you again..." Then he jumped out of his chair and just ran out of the room. Literally, ran at full speed.

My husband came home and I told him I adopted a baby, which he did not find amusing. I finally got a bathroom break at this point. We have no boys toys so we played blocks and he enjoyed knocking them down. He liked to throw things. He's a boy so I guess that's what boys do. My husband gave him a horsey ride which was fun. It reminded me of the days when our children were that age and I know that one day he'll make a wonderful Pop-Pop and give horsey rides again.

When it was almost time for him to go, I retrieved his shirt from the dryer and he refused to put it on. I was pretty sure that his parents would think we were a bunch of weirdos if they showed up and their kid was half dressed so I chased him down. He finally just submitted to my will. Then his dad came to get him. The little guy hugged me goodbye and it was sweet. When they left, I looked at my husband and he said, "He is a really cute kid." I yawned, "And a lot of work." He came in close and he hugged me and I whispered in his ear "I'm glad we're not doing that again." Then our family crashed for the night.