You see those commercials—the diaper ones, the cleaning supply ones. Maybe it’s the coffee commercials where the person happily yawns and is rolling out of bed to that sweet, sweet aroma filling the house. But they all have a few things in common.
Their homes are spotless. Everything is in its own place and organized, pretty much sparkling. Their babies are always giggling and smiling—never throwing a fit or bucking out of their chairs or throwing themselves on the floor. I’m sure those babies sleep through the night, too, and their parents wake up every morning feeling refreshed and well-rested.
A lot of those babies are around the age of one. Ha! I think I’d like to make my own commercial of what it’s really like to be the parent of a 1-year-old, or possibly my own workout video while I’m at it (just attempting to keep up).
So, what’s a typical day like with a true 1-year-old, as I simply just try to stay locked in survival mode. Here’s what it’s really like:
Is she choking?
Is she pulling out the outlet protectors? Oh wait, one is in her mouth! Pull it out, pull it OUT!
Is she climbing up on something? Honey? Get down from there!
Is she near the toilet? She’s playing IN the toilet? WHAT?!
Did she just put that in her mouth? What is that? Honey, open your mouth for Mommy!
Roll down her window. She’s going to puke again.
Give Mommy the remote control. No, don’t push that…you’ll delete…too late.
What’s wrong, Honey, you want up? OK, you want back down? No, you want back up again? Then don’t buck to get down.
Is she going up the stairs? Who took down the baby gate?
Oh no, Sweetheart…no, don’t…OK, let Mommy get a paper towel.
Did the baby swallow that penny? Oh my gosh, she swallowed it, didn’t she?
I need another outfit. She pooped through this one. There’s not another in her drawer? Well, did you check the dryer?
Where’s the skillet at? And my mixing bowl? Let me check her play yard. She likes to take them in there.
Don’t pull the doggy’s tail. And no, no, do NOT ride on her.
Come here, let Mommy wipe your nose. Come on, Baby, just…let…me…wipe.
Don’t give the baby that…she doesn’t have enough teeth to chew that!
Wait, where is she? Why can’t I find her? Where is she?!
Wait, she’s putting her finger in the outlet now? Didn’t I put the protector back in for the love of God?
Honey, don’t bang on the keyboard, please.
I need another outfit; she pulled her bib off and juice is dripping down the front of her.
Don’t eat that dirty shoe, Baby. Here, give Mommy the shoe.
Anyone know where all the sippy cups are? I’m going to go check out in the van. I think I saw three or four in there yesterday.
OK, why can’t I find the baby? Check behind the couch!
Is she breathing OK?
Can someone grab Mommy another diaper? The baby had an explosion.
No, no don’t….ugh. She did.
Her sock, where’s the other sock?
I need to get the syringe. I need to syringe her nose again.
Who left their fruit-snack wrapper over here? The baby just ate part of the wrapper.
Who can help me find my phone? For the love of God, we need to play Daniel the Tigerimmediately.
Sweetie, don’t touch that. OK, listen to Mommy. No, no, no.
Don’t eat the dog food! Nooo!
Hot. HOT. No, no. Hot. Mommy said HOT. Do not touch the candle.
Let’s get in your high chair. Oh, Honey. Don’t buck out of your seat, please. You’re a big girl.
I need another outfit. She just puked on her shirt. Well, did you check the clothes that are being re-fluffed in the dryer? There’s got to be one in there.
Where’s her sippy cup? Still in the car? Then they all must be in the car!
Where did Mommy put the dustpan? And the broom…the baby, wait, Honey, why are you chewing the dirty broom?
Don’t get too close to the edge. Honey, you’re going to…the baby fell, someone please get me the ice pack.
The baby lost her shoe again. Why do we even buy her shoes anyways?
What is that? Don’t eat that Fruit Loop. We haven’t bought Fruit Loops for months. Did she find that under the couch?
What’s wrong? Daddy’s just hugging me…don’t cry. Honey, Daddy can hug Mommy.
Get your mouth off of there, that’s dirty. Ugh, germs everywhere. The baby will have a fever by morning.
Where’s the remote? Someone, get the baby the flipping remote. She wants the remote.
Can Mommy have her phone? Give Mommy her phone back? Oh, locked out of it for the next 14 minutes. Fantastic.
Who took the baby gate down? Seriously?
Get down from there. Oh my God, you’re going to fall.
The blanket, pull the blanket away from her face.
The binky, it fell? It’s fine. Here just let me lick it… it’s completely fine.
The vacuum. I need to grab the vacuum. Which room did I leave it in?
Honey, don’t buck on the floor, you’re going to hurt your head.
Hot. The fan is HOT. Don’t touch the fan. Boo boos. HOT.
Don’t pull that cord out. No, don’t chew on the charger. I swear, oh, I swear.
OK, who deleted Bubble Guppies…are you kidding me? Dear God, is one coming on soon?
Sit still so Mommy can buckle you. Come on, sweetie. Please sit…still.
Don’t slam the door. Watch your fingers. Watch your…fingers…
How did you get that? Danger, put that back. Danger, Honey. That’s Mommy’s cleaning supplies…how did you? Oh, you broke the baby lock.
Honey, get out of the cupboard. Don’t throw that. Too late. You already threw it.
Baby, go back to sleep. Do you want to go night night?
Let’s go night night. It’s sleepy time. Mommy loves you. You need to stay in your crib.
OK, one more kiss and snuggle. Mommy will see you in the morning. Here’s your binky.
Goodnight, Honey. Lie down. You’re so tired. Just lay your head down.
Here’s your binky. Shhh. Let me rub your head. It’s late. Shhh. Go night night.
OK, OK. You win. It’s fine. Just come in our bed.
…as I get kicked, hit and flailed upon, and get practically no consecutive rest.
Now, I’d love to see a diaper or coffee commercial that shows THIS.
Yes, being the parent of a 1-year-old is seriously exhausting. And I’m soon hiring my own camera crew to film the next diaper or coffee commercial that shows THIS.
Read more at The Real Deal of Parenting.
The post Why Being The Parent of A One Year Old Is Exhausting appeared first on Kids Activities Blog.
No comments:
Post a Comment