Snapshots: Toddler Mom Era
The orange crayon on the walls, and on the bedroom carpet. The permanent marker scribbles on the hardwood floor. The crumbs.
The way the floor is stickier within a four-foot radius of two wooden highchairs. The tiny fingerprints that cloud every glass surface—the bathroom mirror, the stove, the back door. The silly ways their faces contort when they smash them into glass and stick out their tongues. The sink that is rarely clean, the stainless-steel appliances that rarely shine, the endless dirt and mud in the entryway. Stains.
The early mornings spent sitting around the coffee table building with Loren, constructing castles out of magna-tiles, boats out of mega blocks, and robots out of duplos. The way Kai walks over with a book in his hand and sits down in my lap. The way he lets me kiss him over and over again. The way he giggles with anticipation when I say, “Echo, play the Itsy-Bitsy Spider.” Random. Toys. Everywhere.
Splashing in the bathtub, footie pajamas, snuggles before bed. Board books brimming on shelves. Regularly tripping on toys. The tiny shoes, socks, and jackets.
The way both kids say, “uppy me,” when they want to be carried. The feeling of their small hands in mine as we walk through a parking lot, down the stairs, or balance on a beam at the playground. The squeeze.
The way they need me incessantly, and the moments of self-play when the don’t.
The way the kids view walking to the mailbox, giving the cats treats, or making pancakes as a special occasion. The way their faces light up when I tell them we can play in the driveway for a little bit when we get out of the car. The way kids echo everything I say, for better or worse. This mommy (occasionally) says f*ck.
A cookie, an ice cream cone, a quart of blueberries. Annie’s mac and cheese for dinner.
A digger, a dump truck, a yellow dress. A train track, a block tower, a pile of pillows to plop on. A blanket fort, a bucket of rocks, a simple red ball. A bug, a boat, a favorite snack.
The way something so small means everything.