Toddlerhood. I am, now more than ever, the parent of a toddler. A toddler with a very specific agenda: to rule the world.
Yesterday, instead of the playful noises that alery us that Zach has awakened,we heard screaming. We ran. Turns out Zach did a nosedive right out of his crib. Come to find out, he broke the damned thing. Hoss Baby. I have never heard of a baby breaking a damned crib. I mean, really. Broken. B-R-O-K-E-N. So the question remains, what the fuck do we do now? Do we a buy a new one for the 16-month-old who may get another year out of it, or less? Or do we put him in a toddler bed? I don’t think it’s time for that yet, as we still haven’t broken him of the damned swaddler. I mean, I think I’m going to have to see if they come in sizes for a 35-year-old man in nice manly patterns at this rate, but oh well. So back to the crib. Our solution is to buy a new crib. A semi-inexpensive one that will convert to a toddler bed when the time comes. And then maybe to a full headboard. But seriously, I have to buy a new fucking crib. Really.
So the other day, after sorting through bins of clothing lent to me by a coworker, I determine that Zach may need a few things for fall/ winter, but not much. And we still have our niece who is going to have a baby in November. So I have been hearing of this mythical land where they sell Carter’s clothes for dirt-cheap prices. I thought Carter’s were affordable to begin with, but these prices are apparently so low that they rival consignment shops and the hated Wally World in their prices. But it was about an hour a way. Don’t get me wrong–totally worth it—if you have that kind of time. I don’t think I have to explain that I most decidedly do not. But then I find out that they have one here in Cincy. Wha????? Sign me up. The CARTER’s STORE! Lo and behold, there is a place that sells nothing but Carter’s clothing. I thought it would be small. It wasn’t I thought it would be outlet-ish, with defects and off-season stuff. It wasn’t. And the best thing? 50% off everything in the daned store. Furthermore, when I kept having to drop stuff off at the register because my arms were full (I did this about 3 times), and I told the lady working the register that I didn’t even know they were there and had never been, she did the unthinkable. “GIRL, Let me HOOK YOU UP!”, she said. And she proceeded to pull a coupon out of a drawer for an additional 25% off f my entire order. Yep, that’s right. 75% all fall and winter stuff. I bought Zach 20 outfits, all size 24 months, to add to the other stuff we have. I also bought 15 outfits for our new great niece who is coming. AND a week’s worth of pajamas/ sleepers. AND some baby bath products. And I spent $305. Holla.
So I was feeling smug because the only thing left to buy Zach for winter is a light jacket, a winter coat, hat and mitten set, and shoes. No, wait. I forgot that I just bought three new pair of Pedipeds in the next sizes up. So just the outerwear. He already has a raincoat and boots that I bought this past spring because they were too cute, and also too big. That’s it. He should even have room in all of these clothes to keep growing. But…
Then the weather did some weird crap. It got cold, causing me to reach into those bags in a fit of desperation for a fleece sleeper one night. And I discovered that the shit fits him. Now. It fits him now. Well, the sleepers are roomy, due to the short-leg syndrome that plagues this family. But the clothes fit. Shit. But, the beauty of the place is that they gave me a 20% off coupon for my next visit, and for every $100 you spend, you get a card for $10 off your next order. So we are going back for the rest of the stuff this week. Love it. It you have one in your area, or even within reasonable driving distance, GO! It will be worth it.
And finally, the third C, Crackers.
The trick to getting Zach to do anything is pish crackers. Yeah, I said pish and not fish because that is how we say it here. It’s just how we roll. And yes, I know that bribing my kid with any kind of food is teaching bad eating habits and will likely cause him to be Maury-Show-fat. But the person who is saying that as never tried to get a toddler to do anything. And so I bribe my ass off. And as a result, I have damned pish crackers coming out of my ears. There is a baggie of them in my purse, the car, the diaper bag. The pocket of the stroller, my backpack. We cannot go anywhere without them if we want to get any task completed. Or if we want to save our ears from the deafening screams.