Hairclub for Toddlers

My reader (that is, my mother in law) insists that this kind of story never gets old, but if it does to you, get used to it! That's what I keep telling myself as these things just continue to happen. My last lengthy installment was back in the fall although I know I sprinkle these stories in as they happen too. And before I get a lecture about lack of supervision from anyone, please tell me how a mom is supposed to put a load of laundry in the dryer and a new one in the washer if she can't leave her 2 1/2 year old unsupervised for a few minutes!! Seriously, baby wearing a 30 pound toddler can get really tiresome. So here are a couple things that happened this week, some captured forever with digital photographs and some better left to the imagination...

Let's start with last Thursday, the day Mator got two baths within a three hour period. The first was just before nap. I left her contentedly playing in the playroom with the Barbies for 10 minutes while I was putting away laundry upstairs (it's always the laundry isn't it? HMMMM, if only that was something I could eliminate!) I heard her come upstairs and I thought, "Oh good, just in time to take a nap!" The first thing I noticed that was her diaper was off. That usually means she pooped and sure enough, when she turned around, there was a wipe in her hand, covered in brown. But that's not all. Her heiny, hand and [wait for it] MOUTH were all covered in brown. "What is that??? Is that poop on your hands??" There was only one way to find out, I grabbed her hand and....sniffed it. Good news, for the moment, was that it didn't smell like poop (although her heiny clearly DID). Turned out, she must have sought to prove our preemptive measures useless. I had finally moved the treat basket to about the only place in the house she can't get to (and I still can) so she decided to settle for Nestle's Quik that she found in the pantry. There on the kitchen floor was the almost empty canister, a spoon still resting inside and the brown powdered evidence all over the vinyl flooring. The second bath involved more poop but no chocolate so it's not worth repeating here.

A couple nights later, Andy and I were preparing dinner for some good friends of ours. The big girls were outside playing and Mator was in her room (so we thought) while we put together the last minute details of dinner. When I went up to check on her, I found her sitting in Muffin's bunkbead (disobedience #1), with scissors in her hand (#2) and cutting the hair of the doll that we bought in Alaska for Muffin on our once in a lifetime trip (#3). The dolls black braids were all over the pink sheets and at first that was all that I noticed. I grabbed the scissors, then grabbed her, then started grabbing BLOND hair off of my shirt. I began to run my fingers through her already fine hair and huge clumps just started coming off in my hands (#4). I was about to throw up. The next few minutes were a flurry of child training techniques all blended together: First there was the spanking, then came the guilt inducing, "How could you do this?", then the rational dialogue: "Scissors and bunkbead are dangerous", more guilt, "This is Muffin's doll..." and wrapping up with a "Your hair looks really bad!" Final damage:This was about a four inch long section that went right to the front of her head.

This hair in the back was about 6 inches long. She's back to where she was when she was about 1 1/2 years old. So what do I do? Do I cut it all off? Make her look like a little boy? Chalk it up to experience? And please, someone tell me you had some crazy child like this who grew up to be a productive member of society???