You Can't Take her Anywhere

Photo of Whitney under Ian's livingroom table. Photo taken by and shamelessly stolen from Mavis.

Ah, the perfect end to a shitty weekend – I took my toddler to an adults-only Super Bowl party Mavis’ boyfriend’s house. Total bust. Whitney was, of course (because it was a Super Bowl party), very bored, so she was into EVERYTHING (when she wasn’t trying to escape the apartment altogether). I spent the whole night keeping her from double-dipping into the food on the coffee table, cutting up snacks for her (she only liked the foods that contained chocolate. I can’t count the number of times I heard her say “don’t like it”), keeping her food off the floor, attempting to distract her with my iPhone, etc. etc. I think a small pony would be easier to control than my kid in a tiny condo full of food and shiny breakables. I spent the whole time child-wrangling (with a few breaks here and there when Cointrin and Daniel kept her contained – THANK YOU!!), and I missed out on the fun party stuff like socializing, eating free food in peace, ogling the bums of (admittedly not very attractive) football players…  I kind of wanted to cry the whole night, ESPECIALLY after Whitney broke Ian’s speaker by kicking it over. I felt so bad, I wanted in crawl in a hole and die.

Luckily, I know nothing about football so I didn't miss anything from the game itself. Except the half-time show (the only part of the game I was actually interested in), when I was in the bathroom with Whitney, who managed to clog Ian's toilet with her poop. After the speaker incident, I didn't even have the heart to tell him. It all mostly flushed after 3 tries, except a little wad of toilet paper, which I left to float in the bowl. My plan was to blame the next guest, but no one went to the bathroom. Devious plans totally foiled. I will never be invited back.

I have been denying it for some time now, but Whitney is too old (and too wild) to take just anywhere anymore. She used to be so portable and well behaved. I would just strap her in her little car seat and she’d sleep and wow strangers with her cuteness and good natured personality. Now she’s like a tornado. She wants to run. She wants to play. She wants to get into everything (especially if it looks particularly breakable and/or dangerous). And heaven forbid if you get in her way!

This Superbowl Sunday marked the end of my bringing Whitney to adult-related activities. From this point on, our Mommy-Daughter adventures are limited to toddler-friendly events and dates with other mommies and kids. RIP single social life (1981-2012).