The Twelve Days of Christmas: I Have a Toddler Edition.

On the first day of Christmas, my toddler gave to me…A picture with Santa where there was so much screaming, even Santa isn’t smiling. (I’ll frame it anyway).

 

On the second day of Christmas, my toddler gave to me…Two epic meltdowns before 10:00AM, because Christmas errands are not for the faint of heart, and they are also not for toddlers. 

On the third day of Christmas, my toddler gave to me…Three Christmas cookies used as bribes, that will most definitely result in a skipped nap. 

On the fourth day of Christmas, my toddler gave to me…Four showings of Curious George Christmas (in a row) (on the same day) (send wine). 

On the fifth day of Christmas, my toddler gave to me…Five strangers staring in the grocery store as he stood up in the cart and declared his true feelings about grocery shopping the week of Christmas. 

On the sixth day of Christmas, my toddler gave to me…Six hours I spent googling “toddler Christmas gifts” knowing full well he’ll be happiest with the wrapping paper. 

On the seventh day of Christmas, my toddler gave to me…Seven awkward FaceTime dates with out of town family who wants to wish the toddler a merry Christmas, but the toddler only wants to make a brief appearance, leaving you to handle the rest of the conversation.

On the eighth day of Christmas, my toddler gave to me…Eight extra miles of driving because he finally passed out and there is no earthly way I’m going home and waking him up. 

On the ninth day of Christmas, my toddler gave to me…Nine pizzas ordered (so far) this month because this. mama. ain’t. cooking. 

On the tenth day of Christmas, my toddler gave to me…Ten different attempts at staged candid Christmas pictures before giving up and promising I’ll get professional pictures taken this year (I won’t). 

On the eleventh day of Christmas, my toddler gave to me…Eleven “last minute” Target runs for things I convince myself he needs for Christmas. 

On the twelfth day of Christmas, my toddler gave to me…twelve broken ornaments from tackling the Christmas tree. 

Twelve broken ornaments, 

Eleven Target runs, 

Ten failed photoshoots, 

Nine pizzas delivered, 

Eight miles of driving, 

Seven awkward FaceTimes, 

Six hours googling, 

Five strangers staring, 

Four Curious George shows, 

Three Christmas cookies,

Two epic meltdowns, 

And a picture of Santa that borders on creepy

(but I’m framing it anyway)