Reading in the hamper.
Life with a 17-month-old is fun.
It’s a special kind of exhausting.
It’s waking up at 4:00 a.m. to the cries of “Mommy” followed by “elbow” because she learned a new word.
It’s waiting for more teeth to (finally) show up. And doling out the Motrin in the meantime.
It’s singing “Skinnamarink” over and over to a child sitting on the potty. (Fun fact: While the song is mostly associated with Sharon, Lois and Bram, it actually originated on Broadway in 1910.)
It’s stirring oatmeal with a kid on your hip because she wants to see the “bubbles.”
It’s simultaneously praising and scolding your child for twisting the lid off the baking powder container — and scrubbing the floor with it.
It’s finding one shoe in her room and the other in your closet.
It’s asking for help with the laundry then watching your kid pretend to take a nap in the pile of dirty clothes.
It’s catching your falling child after she spins herself in circles until she’s dizzy. And then she does it again. And again.
It’s clinking your coffee cup against her sippy cup throughout the entire meal. Because sometimes she won’t drink without “cheers.”
It’s taking her to the library and then trying to convince her that novels are above her reading level.
It’s stopping six times on a 15-minute walk to put her mittens back on.
It’s using hand-washing as an incentive. Because hand soap is fun.
It’s saying “baa-baa” instead of “sheep.” Because your brain is mush.
It’s wondering where she found the Cheerio she’s chewing on.
It’s discovering you’ve been putting your kid in shoes two sizes too small.
It’s scrambling eggs. All the eggs.
It’s pretending that three different kinds of crackers make a balanced snack.
It’s getting tackled by a hug from behind when you’re cleaning up those cracker crumbs.
It’s having no escape. She can open the bathroom door.
It’s forgetting when you last cleaned the bathroom.
It’s losing your phone, only to find it “disabled” on a shelf in another room.
It’s finding a sippy cup on your bedside table. You did not put it there.
It’s tossing a beach ball at your kid’s face just for a laugh.
It’s teaching your kid to sweep, then watching in horror as she eats crumbs out of the dust pan.
It's tiptoeing around the house during naptime, hoping she'll stay asleep longer than yesterday.
It's planning your (limited) social life around a sleep schedule.
It’s singing “The Itsy-Bitsy Spider” in public.
It’s chasing your runaway kid at the market.
It’s sharing your only cookie.
It's trying to keep your kid awake in the stroller so she'll sleep at home.
It's counting on a nap that doesn't happen.
It's forgetting the last time you slept through the night. (It was probably in 2014.)
It's giving her all the stickers.
It's watching her tear up her art project because she wants the stickers back.
It’s getting kissed by a little face covered in yogurt. Because you just can’t say no.
It's a little gross.
But it's mostly wonderful.