30 Days of Thanksgiving: Twenty-Nine

An open letter to the toddler residing in my home that may or may-not be named Holden:

Dear Sir,

Please forgive the ridiculous behavior of yours truly today. It really is inexcusable; that someone as old as me could have a fuse so short. What separates me from the animals? Apparently nothing. You deserve better.

I fail you so often.

Fortunately for both of us, I once read that long term memory doesn't set in until closer to three. Hopefully, I'll have things better figured out by then. But chances are - not really.

It's not that I forget that you're (not yet) two. It's just that I haven't spent a great deal of time detailing exactly how 22-month olds (give or take 2 days?) act/react. So I expect too much. I expect rationale and reasoning and you to not hit people or things when you need attention. I expect you to communicate mild mannerly (assuming you have inherited this genetic predisposition from your father, because it certainly doesn't come from me.)

I expect you...

To enjoy getting your hair cut?

To walk next to me a the grocery store (seriously, even for a gallon of milk, why didn't I just put you in the cart?)

To completely ignore the stack of blocks on the side of the room at yoga that beg for destruction?

To leave the instructor's bag alone when beanie babies are falling out of the top?

To not want marshmallows? (I'm still upset with your grandpa for introducing you to those food-like monstrosities.)

To not be upset when you're nap has obviously been cut short and the only thing you ate for lunch was noodles?

To want to wear mittens because it's 'better' for you?

SERIOUSLY?!?

What's wrong with me?

Why am I not more patient?

Why am I not better?

How can I feel like I have failed you so early when our journey has barely begun?

Please forgive me.

Please be patient with me.

I promise to do better.

I am so thankful for you.