Toddle Tale

Lately I don’t quite know what to put here, but I am maniacally committed to putting, even if it’s just a word, and the word is just HI or NO. My brain is mush of a grocery list and pieces of scenes and things that Joe needs, the ticker tape reads CINNAMON TRASH BAGS CINNAMON TRASH BAGS CINNAMON. But I can share that we officially have a Toddler, who I’ve taken to calling Toddle, which is a real step up from Diaper Butt. His feelings are big. He runs from room to room going AHH! AHH! like he’s on acid, then sits quietly sorting clovers like he’s on Shrooms. He must touch everyone’s Nose. He sorts blocks and sugar packets by shape, and doesn’t want to go anywhere where there’s not Trucks. He studies us deeply, cries, then laughs. I ride the wave, I forget to buy cinnamon, we find more trashbags in the garage, he outgrows his pants, and his Hat. He sleeps, mostly. We sleep sometimes too. We wonder when it’s over, and at the same time wait for it all to begin.

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