The Toddler Diaries

Back in August, my oldest daughter went to camp for a few days, so I started writing down some of the funny things my toddler did, so I would remember to tell her when she came home. Then I decided to write them as diary entries, in a toddler's perspective, and to keep going even after camp was over. Sometimes I really do wish I knew what my toddler was thinking, but it's still fun to guess.

The Toddler Diaries:

August 2, 2013, 5:55 p.m.

Dear Diary, I can finally reach the kitchen counter tops. I think I’ll help Cole with his chores. I successfully grab a box of cereal, and remove the bag from inside the box (which I discard, and may or may not come back to). I head over to Mr. Yams’ bowl of cat food (I have tasted that stuff, and know it isn’t very yummy). I reach my hand into the bag of cereal, and scoop it out into the cat’s food dish. I only give him a few handfuls before Daddy takes it away from me.

August 9, 2013, 3:34 p.m.

Dear Diary, They left the TV remote on the couch again. This game never gets old. I begin pushing buttons, but then I hear Mommy coming. I run away with the remote, and right before she catches up to me I throw it down on the hard wood floor. I think this time it broke into four pieces. Good thing Mommy loves puzzles.

August 10, 2013, 9:31 a.m.

Dear Diary, I have serious climbing skills. I have conquered all the furniture in the house, and now I must master the entertainment center. Unfortunately I am deterred each time I try. I will bide my time, because this girl cannot be kept down. 

August 20, 2013, 3:45 p.m.

Dear Diary, Cole left the door to the bathroom open! Unfortunately Mommy notices just seconds after I do. I run in, grab the first thing I see (Mommy’s book), and drop it into the toilet. I laugh until I see how mad Mommy is. She fishes her book out of the toilet, and throws it away. I guess she doesn't want to read it anymore. As I am running to my next adventure, I hear Cole getting a lecture about leaving the bathroom door open.

August 28, 2013, 11:36 a.m.

Dear Diary, Cats don’t wear socks.

September 1, 2013, 10:11 a.m.

Dear Diary, I think it’s time to eat. I will pull the snack bin off the shelf, and empty it one item at a time. Granola bars are fun to carry around. Cheese crackers are easily crushed; sometimes the package opens up, and they crumble onto the floor. When the bin is almost empty, I see a bag of fruit snacks, and take it to Mommy to open. After she opens them, I eat my fruit snacks while she puts all the rest of the snacks back in the bin. So frustrating; now I must start removing items one by one all over again.

September 1, 2013, 6:23 p.m.

Dear Diary, Mommy is making dinner. Kitchen drawers and cupboards hold many fun mysteries. I don’t understand why Mommy is allowed to remove items from them, but when I take things out and throw them on the floor, I get in trouble. I’m just trying to be helpful. If everything is laid out on the kitchen floor, then it is easier to find what you need.

September 4, 2013, 1:12 p.m.

Dear Diary, Mommy is folding the laundry. She must need my help. I start to remove clothes from the basket one piece at a time and throw it over my shoulder. Mommy acts like this is a huge problem, but I think it is an easier way to empty the basket (so that I can play in it). I suddenly get distracted when Mommy adds a bra to Hailey’s clothes pile. I must have it. I slip my head through the strap, and wear it around the house, telling everyone, “bye, bye”.

September 4, 2013, 1:14 p.m.

Dear Diary, Where is my purse? I must have my purse. And by purse, I mean anything I can put over my arm, and wave bye-bye. Oh look, a ball. The purse is no longer necessary.

September 5, 2013, 11:55 a.m.

Dear Diary, I was feeling good just a second ago, but now I just want to scream and throw things. Maybe if I cry to mom she will know what I need. She asks me if I want to go night-night. I tell her no, but she puts me in my bed anyways. I will just keep cry..i..n..g… Oh, that is a pretty pink doggie chasing a purple unicorn in a field of candy trees.

September 16, 2013, 3:23 p.m.

Dear Diary, The litter box is not for playing in.

October 1, 2013, 10:22 a.m.

Dear Diary, Mommy has her camera again. I think I will let her get one decent picture of me. All of the rest I will look away, grab the lens, or move around to make it blurry. Sometimes when she tells me to say “cheese” I want to eat a piece of cheese, but I never get any.

October 6, 2013, 12:11 p.m.

Dear Diary, I see Cole brought the newspaper into the house. I must get to it before Mommy does. It looks so pretty scattered around the family room.

October 6, 2013, 12:34 p.m.

Dear Diary, Mommy asks me to put my diaper in the trash can. While I’m there I notice something in there I want to play with. I will exchange my diaper for this plastic sack of meat trimmings. Seriously Mommy, why are you freaking out? Oh cool another bath.

October 7, 2013, 10:13 a.m.

Dear Diary, I love the stairs. It’s like having twenty chairs that are just my size. I also like to go up the stairs to see who might have left their bedroom door open. Cole has some fun things to play with in his room. Or, better yet, I will try to turn on Hailey’s radio. Since I can’t figure it out, I will just empty out her clothes cabinet, and sit in it. Another perfect fit for me.

October 9, 2013, 9:42 a.m.

Dear Diary, Cats don’t like to have their fur brushed with a toothbrush.

October 10, 2013, 11:11 a.m.

Dear Diary, Mommy has a gazillion books. Since she has so many I doubt she would miss one or two if I carried them away. Hmm, when I take one off the shelf, a few more fall off. The books definitely look prettier on the floor. Mommy comes into her bedroom, and in my opinion, freaks out about “spending hours alphabetizing.” I like my way much better.  I will go now since Mommy is just sitting there blankly staring at my pretty book pile. She must be admiring my work.

October 21, 2013, 7:15 a.m.

Dear Diary, I love shoes. In fact I have heard mommy mention the word obsessed a few times. I really like matching up the shoe to the person who wears it. Hailey has some pretty shoes, and I carry them around the house looking for her. Unfortunately I often get distracted, and leave a shoe somewhere. Today Hailey is asking me where her matching high heel is. How am I to know? Shouldn’t she keep track of her own things?

October 21, 2013, 10:22 a.m.

Dear Diary, mommy must have forgotten where my ears are again. She keeps asking me to show them to her. Then my eyes, feet, belly button… Poor mommy, maybe she will remember someday.

October 23, 2013, 4:59 p.m.

Dear Diary, Mommy’s office door is closed. I will press my nose against the glass to get her attention. I will plot my next adventure in office land while I wait for her to leave.

October 23, 2013, 5:35 p.m.

Dear Diary, Mommy is making dinner, and she left her office door open. First I will pull on these computer cords. One is attached to mommy’s phone, and the other to the camera. Both fall to the floor, but they don’t land on my feet, so everything is fine. Now I will climb up into mommy’s chair, and use her computer. I don’t really understand it, but things keep popping up on the screen, so I must be doing it right. I hear Cole tell mommy that I am on her computer. Maybe if I hide my face, she won’t notice me. Well, that was futile.

October 24, 2013, 6:33 p.m.

Dear Diary, Cats don’t like being woken up from their naps.

October 25, 2013, 8:21 p.m.

Dear Diary, Mommy is getting me ready for bed. This is my favorite game. As soon as she sits down on the floor, I run away. It is so funny… until Hailey walks me back. Mommy takes off my diaper, and as she reaches for a wipe, I take off again. Not used to running without a diaper on, I trip and fall. When everyone starts laughing, I decide it must be funny, so I laugh too. Mommy finally gets my jammies on, and the game is over.

October 29, 2013, 7:22 p.m.

Dear Diary, We are attending something called a Halloween party. Mommy has been working on my costume for months, and from what I understand it is the best costume ever. People keep taking pictures of me. At the beginning of the night mommy told me if I keep my wig and glasses on, I will get candy. She was right! Everywhere I go, people hand me candy. Nobody recognizes me though, because they keep calling me an old lady.

October 30, 2013, 12:02 p.m.

Dear Diary, Cats don’t like fruit snacks... to eat, or to wear.

November 1, 2013, 10:59 a.m.

Dear Diary, The phone is ringing, and mommy is on the potty. It is the perfect storm. I will get the phone, and start pushing all the buttons; I love the pretty sounds it makes. I wish mommy would stop yelling my name. Just relax, and finish your business, ma, I've got this. Now the phone is making angry sounds. I’ll leave it here on the floor, and go check on mommy.

November 2, 2013, 3:32 p.m.

Dear Diary, Mommy forgot to put my pants back on after she changed me. I will just take this diaper off, and see if anyone notices… well that was quick. At least we all had a good laugh.

November 2, 2013, 4:12 p.m.

Dear Diary, Mommy has her purse, so we must be going bye-bye. She claims she is just getting something out of it, but I don’t believe her. I will find my shoes, and say “bye” over and over, until she admits we are leaving. Mommy locks herself in the bathroom, but that doesn't stop my campaign. Finally mommy comes out and gives me some dinner. I guess I was just hungry.

November 14, 2013, 4:44 p.m.

Dear Diary, I find the refrigerator fascinating. I am unable to open it on my own, but every time someone else does, I am right there to help. I either add more things to the fridge (a shoe, a sippy cup, a spoon…), or I help by closing the door. Today I was closing the door while mommy was pouring my milk. Milk spilled all over mommy and the fridge. I would have run away, but I still wanted my milk.

November 21, 2013, 11:43 am

Dear Diary, Cats don’t like hugs.

November 28, 2013, 6:31 p.m.

Dear Diary, I have filled the washing machine with things that are dirty. My diaper, mom’s shoe, some clothes that mom folded, a ball, and a cup. I love helping with the laundry.

December 2, 2013, 3:53 p.m.

Dear Diary, I haven’t seen mommy in a while. She must be in the bath. I don’t know why she didn't mention it. She knows I like to play in the water, and throw things into the tub. I haven’t heard the water drain, so there must still be time. I know mommy must get lonely in there all by herself, lying there reading her book.