And So I’ve Cracked the Toddler Code

At least my toddler’s code.

Grace is going through a puppy phase. She watched “Lady and the Tramp” a few days ago, and now there is no turning back. Sometimes I have a toddler, other times a dog.

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This weekend we had a mommy-daughter date. Coffee, juice, and a blueberry scone at the new Moxie Java near our house, and a trip to Boise’s semi annual Kidsignment sale. FYI: We only bought two items and were a wee bit disappointed by the sale, but our date at the coffee shop, paired with a jaunt in downtown Boise, and my daughter’s transformation from well behaved toddler to barking dog inside the coffee shop, made the date totally worth it.

We dined, (still working on that chewing with the mouth closed thing),

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sipped on our lattes apple juice,

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and engaged in intelligent conversation about the state of our world. What crazy antics will Pete resort to next in an attempt to trick Micky and the gang?

And when Grace was done playing grown up with mommy, she fell to the floor in what’s becoming typical Grace fashion, and became a dog. A barking, walking on all fours, dog.

Yup.

That’s my daughter! When it was time to leave, my toddler had still not returned, and I was forced to make a very important decision. Make my toddler return to me by picking her up, which would inevitably result in screams and tears and the thrashing of body parts, or leave with the canine version of Grace.

I chose the latter. With many eyes trained on us, we left the coffee shop with Grace trailing me on all fours as I patted my thigh and said, “Here puppy, here puppy!”

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When we got home I told Ken that I thought maybe our daughter had issues. I was then reminded of the weeks my step-son spent reenacting “Jumanji”, or the time he was a dinosaur egg. He turned out o.k. So I think we’re in the clear with Grace. If anything we’ll embrace this bout of imagination and creativity.

And, when we can, we’ll use it to our advantage.

Currently, if Grace is doing something naughty, for example, trying her hand at typing her first novel on the computer, all I have to do is say, “Here puppy! Here puppy!” And she’ll come to me on all fours, in all her barking glory. Or if she’s at the pantry whining for another package of fruit snacks. “Here Puppy! Here Puppy!”

In short, I have cracked the toddler code, and have now, at the expense of looking incredibly strange in public, found a fail safe way to deter Grace from her fit throwing antics, at least for the time being.

“Here puppy! Here puppy!”

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