Sarah Roush

“Dear God, bless this child, because he is about to drive me out of my mind. Amen”. That has been my mantra for about two weeks now. Sparky has reached a new level of some sort of developmental stage as he approaches the terrible twos. I think it is just his little brain seeing what all he can accomplish in the shortest amount of time.

Last week, he stuffed a toy pillow in the toilet and of course – he flushed. I was RIGHT NEXT to him when he pulled that stunt. The safety latch was no match for him and he was so quick, it happened before I had my toothpaste spat out. As I was elbow deep in the rising water of the porcelain lily, he was in the next room, shucking off his pants and his diaper. He was happily trotting around the living room, pooping out little land mines on the rug. I finally caught him, when he paused to stomp on one of those poo patties, ensuring that I would be once again – shampooing the carpet. As I carried him into the bedroom to replace his diaper, he reached up to snuggle me – and nearly bit a hole through my shoulder for ruining his fun. All this took less time than the average commercial break for TV.

Last weekend, he had a cold. When I came home from work, he was at the door, calling “Mama! Mama!” It was heartwarming. I picked him up, giving him a hug and a kiss – when he sneezed. It was like a scene from “Ghost Busters” where a character was suddenly coated with slime dripping off their face. Not so heartwarming. Sparky thought it was hilarious.

His vocabulary is expanding. Not only can he tell you which animal you are looking at – he can do sound effects, just not the ones you would typically expect. Cats squall instead of meow, dogs pant instead of bark and thanks to a stupid nature show, elephants pass gas.

There are some specific words that I have been working furiously on regarding pronunciation. “Truck” being first and foremost. His current way of saying that is an eyepopping version that raises questions over what he is learning in our household. The stares in Walmart are embarrassing.

He has been learning how to blow kisses — to the dog, to the mail box, to the bag of lollipops in Grandma’s china cabinet – not to mama. He kissed his caseworker at her last visit, an act he has STILL NOT done for mama.

He did actually “pee in the potty” for the first time the other day. He was dutifully praised and seemed delighted with his accomplishment. Later that evening, I discovered him sitting on and peeing into a colander he had been wearing as a hat just moments before. His bafflement over my lack of praise was evident.

He has been keeping us on our toes and running the carpet cleaner non-stop. I know at some point, these days will just be funny memories, but, until then, I am still praying to not lose my mind.

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