Leaving the house with a toddler is always an adventure. Sometimes we get the angelic toddler who willingly sits in the shopping cart or stroller for the duration of the trip eating gummies and raisins; other times we get the whiny, finicky, “I want to be carried” toddler, who can’t be pleased (in her defense, this is rare). I swear if there was a way to go shopping that removed this variable entirely, it would make life much easier. Read more
From the moment I first met my daughter she was loud. Her small heartbeat was loud on the ultrasound; she entered the world screaming her head off; as an infant, she made it quite clear when she was hungry, tired, mad, sad, or gassy; and now, as a toddler, she can go from playful chatter box to screaming devil in 3 seconds flat. But despite the annoyingly loud moments, there are other times when her noises are comforting and almost reassuring.
(This image was chosen because it makes about as much sense as toddler-speak.)
It’s a known fact that toddlers make no goddamn sense. Their grasp on the English language is loose, to say the least. And while I would love to always give my kid an A for effort, sometimes it’s merely a B-.
Los Angeles is a car city. Public transportation is getting better, and there is always buzz about expansion, but it’s impossible to traverse the city easily without a car. I’ve ridden the train for nearly two-and-a-half years to work, and Isa has ridden the train once, but most Angelenos consistently brave the concrete web of freeways.
I am a big fan of the freeway, mainly because I drive faster than I should, and it’s almost always quicker than the streets (even if some trips are a few miles longer). I also don’t have patience for slow drivers. Or bad drivers. And yes, “bad” is subjectively defined as anyone that annoys me on the road (unless Mrs. FWL is with me, in which case I am sometimes the bad driver). But having kids changes things.
Isabel loves to read. And she loves when we read to her even more. She grabs her books from the shelf and assumes the position in our lap, without fail. But for some god forsaken reason, she has been insisting that we read to her the minute she wakes up at 6:30 am. We can barely comprehend walking down the hallway, and she’s ready to go!
It’s has been well-documented across the internet that toddlers lose their shit over the most random things. They are basically human tectonic plates (hey, I live in California) – usually they are fine, but without warning they can slip, and all hell breaks loose. Seemingly ordinary actions cause an immediate and catastrophic meltdown, and we usually have absolutely no clue what caused it. In my brief time as a dad to a toddler, and inspired by a comment made by Mrs. FWL a few days ago while dressing our daughter, this is my short list of toddler meltdown triggers, that I’m sure will quickly grow:
The language journey begins when our kids are still in utero. We sing to them,
speak to scream at them, put our earbuds against the womb so they can hear Beethoven, the Beatles, and Beyonce, and beat ourselves up when we don’t do any of the aforementioned frequently enough. Because, if you don’t do this for at least 36 minutes a day, your child will never learn to speak. (At least that’s what the internet says, and the internet is always right.)