Toddlers Are A Holes Quotes

Mine was bright green with gold swirls. Adam's was black. "You have no imagination," I told him smugly. "It wouldn't hurt if you found a pink ball to bowl with." "All the pink balls have kid-sized holes in them," he told me. "The black balls are the heaviest." I opened my mouth, but he shut me up with a kiss. "Not here," he said. "Look next to us." We were being observed by a boy of about five and a toddler in a frilly pink dress. I raised my nose in the air. "As if I were going to joke about your ball. How juvenile.

Someone once said that toddlers and grandparents get along so well because they have a common enemy. You.

You will NOT have time to clean. Even if you do clean, your efforts will be destroyed in a matter of moments,

Four-year-olds are a cross between Charlie Sheen, Lindsay Lohan, and Stephen Hawking: They don’t seem to learn from their mistakes, are highly unpredictable, but show sparks of pure genius.

There’s a reason toddlers are at peak cuteness. It’s because Nature knows that toddlerhood is when you are most likely to take your child to a public park and leave him there with a note that says, “I’m a little shit and they couldn’t take it anymore.

Note: Avoid eye contact with three-year-olds when they are hungry or tired. Like violent dogs, they assume you are challenging them and will charge. Too many people have lost nipples and eyelids to the teeth of three-year-olds. Too many.

Never give a toddler chocolate. This is inexcusable behavior. We don’t waste chocolate on babies.

Three-year-olds have only one goal: to make you look like a bitch-ass punk in public.

Age three is when your toddler enters full asshole mode.

Parents love bathtime because it means that bedtime is near. To prepare your darling for her bath, put on your full-length poncho, because toddlers don’t bathe, they splash, motherfucker. When toddlers bathe, they act like they’re a junior member of the summer Olympics diving team. Get ready. By the time you’re done, your bathroom floor will have a few inches of standing water. The good news is that wiping up all that water counts as mopping the floor.

Pull-Ups cost so much because they sell the illusion that you are that much closer to having a potty-trained kid when in reality you’re not closer at all. They’re like the Spanx of diapers. Pull-Ups are a lie.

You have become a shut-in. Hopefully you have a backyard, because you’re going to lose your will to leave the house. It just won’t be worth it anymore.

The Internet is your portal to the rest of the world. The people online are your only friends.

Like a toddler throwing a temper tantrum, she guzzled down the vodka in hopes that Hef would feel that urge to rescue her or care for her.

Toddler assholery” is a normal part of human development. It’s like puberty but focuses mainly on throwing food on the floor and taking swings at people who pay your way.

Once you have a toddler, each day will begin and end with a tango known as “Changing Clothes,” or, as many parents call it, “What the Fuck Is Wrong with You?

Toddlers live that #thuglyfe better than any of us could even try to because toddlers. don’t. give. a. fuck. The quicker you understand that, the better.

Note: One terrible aspect of preschool and day care is that it will put you in direct contact with parents who are doing better than you are. During drop-off and pickup, you will notice that there are parents who drive very expensive vehicles and are physically attractive, fit, and well-dressed. We call these people punk bitches (applies to males and females) and avoid them. If it helps, imagine that their personal life is in shambles. Look for the parents who look like they were just released from prison: unshaven, hunched over, afraid of sunlight, confused, shoes on the wrong feet, etc. These are your people.

Congratulate yourself on going to the park. Take between 10 and 800 photos to let your Facebook friends know what a fantastic parent you are and how much they suck for being in front of the TV with their kid.

In one way, at least, our lives really are like movies. The main cast consists of your family and friends. The supporting cast is made up of neighbors, co-workers, teachers, and daily acquaintances. There are also bit players: the supermarket checkout girl with the pretty smile, the friendly bartender at the local watering hole, the guys you work out with at the gym three days a week. And there are thousands of extras --those people who flow through every life like water through a sieve, seen once and never again. The teenager browsing a graphic novel at Barnes & Noble, the one you had to slip past (murmuring "Excuse me") in order to get to the magazines. The woman in the next lane at a stoplight, taking a moment to freshen her lipstick. The mother wiping ice cream off her toddler's face in a roadside restaurant where you stopped for a quick bite. The vendor who sold you a bag of peanuts at a baseball game. But sometimes a person who fits none of these categories comes into your life. This is the joker who pops out of the deck at odd intervals over the years, often during a moment of crisis. In the movies this sort of character is known as the fifth business, or the chase agent. When he turns up in a film, you know he's there because the screenwriter put him there. But who is screenwriting our lives? Fate or coincidence? I want to believe it's the latter. I want that with all my heart and soul.

Raising kids is hard and raising toddlers feels IMPOSSIBLE most of the time. We all wonder if we’re fucking it up, so why not just be honest? The kind of people parents need in their lives are the ones they can call to come over for a drink and to bitch about their day while their kids play on the floor. You should be able to say, “Hey, toddlers are assholes,” without them getting their panties in a wad. You should be able to say, “I hate my fucking family sometimes” and “Cooking dinner sucks ass.” Fuck all this perfectionist, gratitude-out-the-ass bullshit. It’s okay to say it sucks when it sucks. Yes, there are people in the world who have it so much worse, but does that mean we can’t let off some steam? Of course not. You know what’s hard? Even harder than dealing with toddlers? Pretending it’s not hard.

Not everyone lives in a trash can just because they have kids. My home is orderly and neat because I care. Shame on you.” Response: “Your home is orderly and neat because the only thing you love more than your kid are Instagram likes. Go eat a bag of dicks.

toddlers and grandparents get along so well because they have a common enemy. You.

The amount of crap in your tub will rival that in your garage. By the time you go to take a shower, it’ll be like cleansing yourself inside a dollar store.

Toddlers have an excuse when it comes to their shitty behavior: They’re learning how to be people. If you’re an asshole of a parent, it’s all on you.

They do best in groups with other three-year-olds. In a community of their peers, these toddlers will create complicated Lord of the Flies hierarchies rich with unspoken rules and contracts. Don’t try to make sense of it, just enjoy that they’re not giving you hell for five minutes.

A toddler is a cross between a sociopath, a rabid animal, a cocker spaniel, a demon, and an angel. Depending on the time of day and when your toddler’s last meal was, you will see all of these sides. The

Toddlers are assholes. They just are. Remind yourself of this the next time your two-year-old tosses a full bowl of oatmeal across the room. The oatmeal he cried for. The oatmeal you dragged your sleep-deprived ass out of bed at 4:45 a.m. to make. Remind yourself of this when you’re about to judge your stay-at-home spouse for the mess in the living room. He’s been under house arrest with a little asshole all day.

This is as cute as your kid is ever going to get. A two-year-old is trapped between babyhood and kidhood, and it’s a beautiful thing to behold. Is there anything cuter than a two-year-old Tweedledee stumbling around?

She loves her kids and is just trying to get through the hard times without losing her mind. She’s too exhausted to be anything but blunt. She’s Sopha King Tyerd. So fucking tired. She’s who I became when I stopped pretending that I had it all under control and realized that raising kids isn’t about perfection, holiday cards, or Pinterest meals. It’s about experiencing the ups and the downs with the people who mean the most to you in the world.

How Do I Deal with My Toddler’s Behavior? Do what most parents do and drown your frustrations in doughnuts and beer come bedtime. Personal trainers and fitness nuts will tell you that eating before bed is bad for your health and waistline. What these idiots don’t understand is that you need to snack so that you don’t abandon your family in the night. When it comes down to it, isn’t it preferable to inhale a bag of Doritos and be forty or fifty pounds overweight than to leave your toddler without a parent? You’re doing the right thing by eating your emotions. Living with a toddler isn’t the time for you to be worried about having a thigh gap. Fun fact: You can actually create a thigh gap no matter what you weigh just by standing with your legs apart. See? Gap. (But, remember, thigh gaps are dangerous because toddlers can use them to climb back into your uterus.)

Toddlers walk through life like we all wish we could: confident, demanding, and 100 percent positive that they are the center of the universe. They can kick their father in the testicles and feel nothing. They love to laugh. They love to destroy expensive cosmetics and to fingerpaint with long-wearing lipstick. Toddlers love to render electronic devices useless. They enjoy making debit cards and keys vanish into thin air. They like to permanent marker on shit. Toddlers live that #thuglyfe better than any of us could even try to because toddlers. don’t. give. a. fuck. The quicker you understand that, the better. Repeat after me: Toddlers don’t care and they never did.

Nowadays, we're all expected to make lunches in the shape of Frozen characters, put our kids in stylish clothes, spend our weekends making elaborate Pintrest inspired balloon-animal melted-crayon ombre-cookie crafts, and having our families and homes look like they just walked out of a page from Real Simple magazine-the pressure is enormous. And its stupid.

It was as if we had fallen down a rabbit hole and landed in a frat house Fu ll of drunken toddlers. Suddenly, Eat Me had a whole new meaning.

The quickest way to get cut off from naked Twister is to act like working outside the house makes you exempt from equal parenting. Mofo.

Dear Asshole Whisperer, I try to feed my toddler reasonably healthy food but still feel judged by other parents. What should I do? —Mom of Two in Maine Dear Mom of Two, There’s always going to be a parent who you feel is doing a better job than you, but think of it this way: In a zombie apocalypse, kids that smell like kefir and kombucha (i.e., rotting flesh) will get eaten first.

Now to contradict myself: If you do bring juice into your home, know that it’s the closest thing to giving your child an ecstasy pill. Your toddler will fiend for it hard. He’ll pace like someone itching for a nicotine hit as you pour it, and grab it out of your hands with legit desperation. Cut it with water if you want, but have you tasted your half-juice, half-water concoctions? They taste like piss. You’re the boss, though.

Nature knows that toddlerhood is when you are most likely to take your child to a public park and leave him there with a note that says, “I’m a little shit and they couldn’t take it anymore.” “Toddler assholery” is a normal part of human development. It’s like puberty but focuses mainly on throwing food on the floor and taking swings at people who pay your way. Toddlers are assholes. They just are. Remind yourself of this the next time your two-year-old tosses a full bowl of oatmeal across the room.

What Do Toddlers Want? Your soul. Just kidding. Toddlers want whatever pops into their heads at any given moment. The problem is, these thoughts don’t stop. This is why even though your toddler specifically asked for crackers, in the time it takes you to walk to the kitchen, pull the crackers out of the pantry, put the crackers on a plate, and walk back to your toddler, he now wants a piece of toast in the shape of Jay Leno’s chin. Did I mention that he is also heartbroken and furious that you have presented him with disgusting offensive crackers that have no meaning to him? These crackers are no longer just crackers. They represent his frustration with having a parent who can’t meet his needs. Your child might feel the need to remove all of his clothing and cry on the floor for twenty minutes, ultimately pissing himself, even though you’re late for work. WELCOME TO TODDLERHOOD.

The two boys lead the way down the hall. There are windows in this corridor, and the skyscrapers of New York City are visible in the distance—man-made mountains of steel and glass piercing a blue sky. Jane and Bruce can’t help but locate the spot where the Twin Towers used to be, the same way the tongue finds the hole where a tooth was pulled. Their sons, who were both toddlers when the towers fell, accept the skyline as it is.

The things money can’t buy, goes the famous quote, you don’t want anyway. Which is bullshit, because in truth there is nothing money can’t buy. Not really. Love, happiness, peace of mind. It’s all available for a price. The fact is, there’s enough money on earth to make everyone whole, if we could just learn to do what any toddler knows—share. But money, like gravity, is a force that clumps, drawing in more and more of itself, eventually creating the black hole that we know as wealth. This is not simply the fault of humans. Ask any dollar bill and it will tell you it prefers the company of hundreds to the company of ones. Better to be a sawbuck in a billionaire’s account than a dirty single in the torn pocket of an addict.

He was not her sole companion. She had her demons, too. You can't run from them, as Lexi discovered. Changing cities doesn't help either; you carry them along inside you. You just wake up one day, fed up, and decide to snuggle with them instead. You invite them along as you go about your day, balancing them on your shoulder as you would a toddler, but with very strict conditions: You will not set fire to my hair. You will not take candy from strangers. You will not tie me up in chains while I sleep. You will behave. And Lexi's demons, allowed to come close, sat on her shoulder. They waved to the angels perched on her other shoulder and struck up a conversation with Lexi. 'What's that noise?' her demons asked, sidling close to her ear. 'Oh, that?' Lexi massaged her temples. 'It's the air whistling through the hole in my heart.' 'You're afraid,' they taunted. 'I am,' she admitted. 'Afraid of the sky falling. Afraid of the tight-rope snapping. Afraid I can't dance well enough on the edge. Afraid there are no hands to steady my body. Afraid of hands that wish to cage my heart.' 'Coward,' the demons goaded.

My dear Marwan, in the long summers of childhood, when I was a boy the age you are now, your uncles and I spread our mattress on the roof of your grandfathers’ farmhouse outside of Hom. We woke in the mornings to the stirring of olive trees in the breeze, to the bleating of your grandmother's goat, the clanking of her cooking pots, the air cool and the sun a pale rim of persimmon to the east. We took you there when you were a toddler. I have a sharply etched memory of your mother from that trip. I wish you hadn’t been so young. You wouldn't have forgotten the farmhouse, the soot of its stone walls, the creek where your uncles and I built a thousand boyhood dams. I wish you remembered Homs as I do, Marwan. In its bustling Old City, a mosque for us Muslims, a church for our Christian neighbours, and a grand souk for us all to haggle over gold pendants and fresh produce and bridal dresses. I wish you remembered the crowded lanes smelling of fried kibbeh and the evening walks we took with your mother around Clock Tower Square. But that life, that time, seems like a dream now, even to me, like some long-dissolved rumour. First came the protests. Then the siege. The skies spitting bombs. Starvation. Burials. These are the things you know You know a bomb crater can be made into a swimming hole. You have learned dark blood is better news than bright. You have learned that mothers and sisters and classmates can be found in narrow gaps between concrete, bricks and exposed beams, little patches of sunlit skin shining in the dark. Your mother is here tonight, Marwan, with us, on this cold and moonlit beach, among the crying babies and the women worrying in tongues we don’t speak. Afghans and Somalis and Iraqis and Eritreans and Syrians. All of us impatient for sunrise, all of us in dread of it. All of us in search of home. I have heard it said we are the uninvited. We are the unwelcome. We should take our misfortune elsewhere. But I hear your mother's voice, over the tide, and she whispers in my ear, ‘Oh, but if they saw, my darling. Even half of what you have. If only they saw. They would say kinder things, surely.' In the glow of this three-quarter moon, my boy, your eyelashes like calligraphy, closed in guileless sleep. I said to you, ‘Hold my hand. Nothing bad will happen.' These are only words. A father's tricks. It slays your father, your faith in him. Because all I can think tonight is how deep the sea, and how powerless I am to protect you from it. Pray God steers the vessel true, when the shores slip out of eyeshot and we are in the heaving waters, pitching and tilting, easily swallowed. Because you, you are precious cargo, Marwan, the most precious there ever was. I pray the sea knows this. Inshallah. How I pray the sea knows this.

The Blacklist If you’re unfamiliar with Caillou, he is the leader of the toddler community. He is the Dark Lord from whom they take orders. Caillou is who every toddler aspires to be. He’s a whining shit stain of a kid who, despite having no redeeming qualities, not even physical attractiveness, still gets everything he asks for. If most of us were Caillou’s parents, we would have dropped him off at Grandma’s house and not looked back. He is a demon’s spawn. His whine could strip paint. His cries generate no sympathy in parents, only rage. Parents, have you noticed that as your child watched Caillou he began whining more? If you have not gotten your child addicted to this degenerate of a television-show character, proceed with caution. No animated child in history has angered parents like Caillou has. If you Google his name, you will find images of him walking through flames like a demon and YouTube channels dedicated to discussing his assholery.

How to Keep Your Toddler Off Your Back You need to keep your toddler busy to avoid going stir-crazy. What is stir-crazy? This is when parents leave adult reality and begin to enter their toddler’s world. Symptoms include: 1) identifying with cartoon characters, 2) becoming sexually attracted to members of The Wiggles, 3) forgetting what it’s like to have a conversation with someone who isn’t currently shitting her pants, and 4) eating Goldfish out of the couch cushions. To avoid this condition, you need to leave your home regularly to keep your child from talking to you too much.

Toddlers don't like to eat from their own plates. It's far too predictable. They much prefer raining on your own food parade by picking at your meal. When toddlers do this, it's their way of saying, "Motherfucker, I own you." If you've never tried to enjoy food while having a dirty, chubby toddler hand that has probably recently been up her butt reach onto your plate and pull off your last slice of bacon, you're living the dream.

Having kids while not being rich enough to afford a nanny was the worst mistake you ever made.

Some toddlers may take a bite or two of the meal you’ve made so lovingly, but most will not finish it. You’ll then feel compelled to eat the rest of their fish sticks or cheese cubes. Try not to dwell on the fact that you’re eating trash. Don’t worry, these calories don’t count. Most of you will spend your days eating your toddler’s scraps like some kind of Lululemon-wearing vulture. The

There's a story about a monk who carried water from a well in two buckets, one of which had holes in it. He did this every day, without repairing the bucket. One day, a passer-by asked him why he continued to carry the leaky bucket. The monk pointed out that the side of the path where he carried the full bucket was barren, but on the other side of the path, where the bucket had leaked, beautiful wildflowers had flourished. "My imperfection has brought beauty to those around me," he said. Helen Keller, who became deaf and blind as a toddler after an unidentified illness, wrote, "When one door of happiness closes, another opens; but often we look so long at the closed door that we do not see the one which has been opened for us." When something doesn't go your way, say to yourself, "There's more for me out there." That's all...The more open you are to possible outcomes, the more you can make gratitude a go-to response.

Sometimes, it just happens," my own toddler likes to earnestly say when she spills her milk or scrapes her knee. I usually try to piece together the events that led up to her accident and coach her on how to avoid such mishaps in the future. But maybe what she's asking of me is to just be with her, in her frustration, in her hurt.

Three-year-olds don’t just carpe the diem, they carpe your will to take them anywhere.

The amount of crap in your tub will rival that in your garage. By the time you go to take a shower, it’ll be like cleansing yourself inside a dollar store. Try not to slip—you could end up with a spoon enema.

1. Give your toddler some large tubular pasta and a shoelace.  Show her how to thread the shoelace through the pasta. 2. Take an empty long wrapping paper tube and place one end on the edge of the sofa and the other end on the floor.  Give him a small ball such as a Ping Pong ball to roll down the tube.   3. Give her some individually wrapped toilet tissues, some boxes of facial tissue or some small tins of food such as tomato paste.  Then let her have fun stacking them.     4. Wrap a small toy and discuss what might be inside it.  Give it to him to unwrap. Then rewrap as he watches.  Have him unwrap it again.    5. Cut  such fruits as strawberries and bananas into chunks.  Show her how to slide the chunks onto a long plastic straw.  Then show her how you can take off one chunk at a time, dip it into some yogurt and eat it.   6. Place a paper towel over a water-filled glass.  Wrap a rubber band around the top of the glass to hold the towel in place.  Then place a penny on top of the paper towel in the centre of the glass.  Give your child a pencil to poke holes in the towel until the penny sinks to the bottom of the glass.   7. You will need a small sheet of coarse sandpaper and various lengths of chunky wool.  Show him how to place these lengths of wool on the sandpaper and how the strands stick to it.   8. Use a large photo or picture and laminate it or put it between the sheets of clear contact paper.  Cut it into several pieces to create a puzzle.   9. Give her two glasses, one empty and one filled with water.  Then show her how to use a large eyedropper in order to transfer some of the water into the empty glass.   10. Tie the ends/corners of several scarves together.  Stuff the scarf inside an empty baby wipes container and pull a small portion up through the lid and then close the lid.  Let your toddler enjoy pulling the scarf out of the container.   11. Give your child some magnets to put on a cookie sheet.  As your child puts the magnets on the cookie sheet and takes them off, talk about the magnets’ colours, sizes, etc.   12. Use two matching sets of stickers. Put a few in a line on a page and see if he can match the pattern.  Initially, you may need to lift an edge of the sticker off the page since that can be difficult to do.    13. You will need a piece of thin Styrofoam or craft foam and a few cookie cutters.  Cut out shapes in the Styrofoam with the cookie cutters and yet still keep the frame of the styrofoam intact.  See if your child can place the cookie cutters back into their appropriate holes.        14. Give her a collection of pompoms that vary in colour and size and see if she can sort them by colour or size into several small dishes. For younger toddlers, put a sample pompom colour in each dish.   15. Gather a selection of primary colour paint chips or cut squares of card stock or construction paper.  Make sure you have several of the same colour.  Choose primary colours.  See if he can match the colours.  Initially, he may be just content to play with the colored chips stacking them or making patterns with them.

As with any jealous lover, a toddler's endgame is not that you are happy, but that you are isolated and devoted 100 percent to meeting his needs.

6A day will come when the wolf will live peacefully beside the wobbly-kneed lamb, and the leopard will lie down with the young goat; The calf and yearling, newborn and slow, will rest secure with the lion; and a little child will tend them all. 7Bears will graze with the cows they used to attack; even their young will rest together, and the lion will eat hay, like gentle oxen. 8-9Neither will a baby who plays next to a cobra’s hole nor a toddler who sticks his hand into a nest of vipers suffer harm. All my holy mountain will be free of anything hurtful or destructive, for as the waters fill the sea, The entire earth will be filled with the knowledge of the Eternal.

Being a toddler is a never-ending episode of American Ninja Warrior, and the only prize is a visit to the emergency room.

The handful of popcorn must be smaller than your mouth Don’t take large fistfuls of popcorn and push and shove them into your mouth like a toddler forcing a square peg into a round hole. If popcorn is spilling back into the feed-bucket or onto your lap and the floor around you, then you’re taking too much. I realise it’s dark and no one can see, but that’s no reason to suddenly start eating like a bulimic possum. Slow down, take smaller ‘handfuls’ and chew. With your mouth closed, obviously.

People without a toddler of their own will not understand how someone so cute will make you want to be single, living in a studio apartment with only a bottle of Jose Cuervo to keep you company.

Don’t worry if you can’t afford organic produce. If a child can lick the bottom of her own shoe and survive, chances are a regular apple isn’t going to hurt her. Remember: We were raised on cans of “fruit cocktail,” the kind with two bright red maraschino cherries per can. Delish!

Anything you can do to keep from packing up your shit and leaving is called love.

Two-year-olds are next to impossible to understand, and they feel self-conscious about how much they suck at speaking. This is why asking a 2T to repeat himself sends him into a rage. Pretend to understand his gibberish or you’ll get bitch-slapped.

Two-year-olds are cute, but never, ever mistake their elfin good looks for kindness.

Three-year-olds have only one goal: to make you look like a bitch-ass punk in public. Once you know this, you’ll pick your battles. Pick none of them. Don’t engage in arguments with a three-year-old, because if you’re yelling or explaining, they’ve already won.

The truth is that kids will play with their toys 8 percent of the time. The other 92 percent of the time they want your iPhone, the remote, Saran wrap, razors, mail, and other household items. The more inappropriate and inconvenient the item, the more they will want to hold it, love it, and call it their own.

The Witching Hour Explained Toddlers wake up from their naps like angry drunks: confused, belligerent, and emotionally abusive.

You cannot talk a toddler down from a tantrum any more than you can talk a tornado down from destroying lives.

Toddlers love their grandparents with the love of a thousand suns. It is a pure love based on gifts, hugs, a no-rules environment, and candy.

You know what’s hard? Even harder than dealing with toddlers? Pretending it’s not hard.

LOST AND FOUND IMMY WAS A frail little girl, the only child of older parents. At three, she was only as big as the average eighteen-month-old toddler. She was unable to walk more than a few blocks without tiring and did not have the strength to play games you could not play sitting down. A desperately wanted and long-awaited baby, she had been born with a hole in her heart and a badly formed heart valve. Only the most careful medical management had helped her

Depending on your personal destiny, your 2T might be a sweetheart or a raving lunatic. Whatever she is, please know that her behavior will go downhill from here. Two-year-olds might not be in full toddler mode yet, but they will often show glimpses of what lies ahead

You’re going to spend a considerable amount of cashola on toys.

Why do we buy them? Because you hope that eventually you’ll find that toy that your toddler loves so much that they stay away from you for more than 15 minutes. Each

Why do we buy them? Because you hope that eventually you’ll find that toy that your toddler loves so much that they stay away from you for more than 15 minutes. Each toy purchase is a gamble for a moment of peace. They’re like lottery tickets. You know you’re going to lose but it’s fun to try.