What it’s like around here all day. Pass the wine.

Enter the two year old. 

“Help me.”

“Heellllp me.”

“Hellllllllllllllllllllp meeeeeeeeeeeeee.”

“Oh, sorry.  What?  What do you want help with Ella?”

“Help me peas mommy?”

“Okay, what do you want help with?”

“Hellllllllllllllllp meeeeeeeeeeeee.”

“Help you what?”

“Do dis.”

“Do what?”

“Help me.”

ohfortheloveofallthatisgoodandholyifyoudon’ttellmewhatyouwant

helpwithi’mgoingtolosemymind.

“Ella.  What do you want me to do?”

“Help me do dis mommy?”

“Okay, I’ll help you.”  (Which is what I should’ve said in the first place.)

“Help me.”  (I’m not kidding about how many times she says this phrase per episode.)

“Okay, I’ll–”

“I DO IT!”

“Okay, fine, you do it.”

“HELLLLLLLLLPPPPP MEEEEEEE!” 

She takes the boots and throws them.

She falls ever-so-dramatically onto the floor.

She screams.

I ignore. 

I hide from her. 

I eat some tootsie rolls.

She finds me. 

She wraps her little arms around my legs.

“Tears, down.  Sad.”

“I know, Ella.  But I will not listen to you when you fuss like that.”

“Okay mommy.  Help me, peas Mommy?”

Do I have to?

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What it’s like around here all day. Pass the wine.

10 thoughts on “What it’s like around here all day. Pass the wine.

  1. I totally get it. And it’s not. fun.

    But yes, you’ll miss it in a few years.

    My little guy let me sleep in this morning, got his own breakfast, and didn’t wake me up for two whole hours. That made me sad.

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