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The other night on the playground, my friend’s 3 year old son ran up to my 2.5 year old son and gave him the biggest tightest hug I had ever seen. My heart melted, but Josh had a look of horror on his face. (My son has a huge personal bubble space and it had just been violated.) Trying not to laugh, I gently told the little boy, “It’s probably a good idea to ask if it’s ok before you hug someone.” The little boy looked confused and replied “BUT HE’S SO CUUUUTTTTEEEE!!!!!”

Boo-yah toddler!! You’re asleep and we’re about to make a steak dinner! We’re gonna adult so hard right now. Probably going to be ice cream afterward and we don’t have to feed any of it to your little mouth. Toddler, I have one thing to say to you- FOMO.

Tonight, parenthood looked like turning on the end of “Hunt for Red October” the second the sleep-averse toddler fell asleep. And huge bowls of ice cream. And it was everything. Oh, and Alec Baldwin was hot.

Josh insisted on “reading” his bedtime stories to himself. He’s up there now talking out loud. Have we reached nirvana? What’s next… Brushing his own teeth? Gah… See what happens when you dare to dream big.

Me today after about 4 hours of intense whining & meltdowns:

“C’mon Josh… Mommy is SOOOO tired.” I pause and look into his little eyes. Was that recognition? Was that a glimmer of empathy?

Him: “Mommy, I want WAAATEERRRR!!!”

Another laughable and egregious miscalculation by yours truly. You can probably guess I really stink at chess too.