Those who are parents, prepare to die of laughter.
Maybe I am way out of the loop here but I had never heard of The Honest Toddler until a friend forwarded me a piece that was featured in the Huffington Post last month. It's entitled, I'm Sorry. You know I only do re-posts if they are amazing, and this one definitely lives up to that!
I'm Sorry, by The Honest Toddler
Look mom. I can tell from the way you haven't looked me in the eye since fetching me from my crib well before dawn that you're upset about last night. Waking up every 45 minutes to 1.5 hours isn't easy for me either.
In my defense, my blanket really did keep coming off, I was thirsty, and... I can't remember the other reasons, but I'm sure they were equally valid.
There was at least one nightmare. I was in a strange house. I knew it wasn't ours because the dishes were washed and your hair wasn't everywhere.
I do want to thank you for bringing back the 3 a.m. milk that you worked so hard to get me off of. It was delicious and instrumental in helping me wake up soaked in urine at around 4. Can't wait to have it again forever.
You seem tired and short tempered this morning which is why I felt more comfortable writing this than having a face-to-face. Can I get you anything? A cup of coffee? While you're up please bring me a sippy cup of juice and some unbroken crackers. Oh that's right. We don't have crackers... I recall you saying that around 1:15. That's OK. Why keep the house stocked with my favorite foods? I'm sure we have two kinds of wine though. But that's fine.
Anyway I wanted to thank you for changing my pajamas and throwing that towel down on my pee pee sheets. I noticed you didn't open your eyes once (weird). It's also OK that you didn't actually change my sheets. I find the faint smell of ammonia comforting. Love means doing things halfway.
I mean, I know another mother or a grandma might have removed the soiled sheets and replaced them with freshly laundered ones but you just do you.
There is something I did want to discuss now that I have your attention. It's none of my business what goes on between you and father after I go to bed but if you could just throw on a robe before coming into my room, that'd be awesome. I think you should definitely rock what you've got but angry nude lumbering zombie isn't your best look. I want to be honest.
This seems like as good a time as any to bring up the possibility of reintroducing cosleeping. I can't promise I won't judo kick you to the face like I used to but at least one of us will get a good night's sleep and isn't that what matters?
Anyway. I hope this note brings you some comfort. You really do look awful. Maybe you'd feel better if you made us some breakfast?