A Day in the Life of a Stay-At-Home-College-Student-Mother

8:30 am - Kick blankets off.

8:32 am - Have Fiance put blankets back on.

8:33 am - Kick blankets off again.

8:34 am - Fiance puts blankets on again, groans, and make sure I can't get out of blankets again, though I manage to wiggle a foot free.

9:45 am - Awoken by "I'm awake!" from Little Miss' room. Groan. Shove Fiance to get out of bed, only to have him shove me back.

10:00 am - Fiance's alarm goes off. He gets up and goes get Little Miss, I go downstairs and pull out milk and chop up bananas into cereal.

10:15 am - Fiance leaves for work. By this time Spongebob is on and while I'm trying to find my planner, Little Miss is chowing down on cheerios with bananas and blueberries, and a nice tall cup of milk.

10:30 am - 2 pm - Little Miss runs around strewing various toys around the house, while I attempt to do homework, but instead end up having to chase her around the house to make sure she doesn't destroy everything.

2:00 pm - 4:00 pm - Quiet time. Little Miss plays quietly in her room and I play on Facebook do a little bit of homework or housework without having her get underfoot.

4:00 pm - 5:00 pm - I start to cook dinner.

5:00 pm - 5:30 pm  - Little Miss and I eat dinner and watch an episode of Dora or Spongebob.

5:30 pm - 6:50 pm - She plays or we watch a movie.

6:50 pm - 7:00 pm - Brush teeth, put on pajamas, and read a bedtime story.

7:00 pm - Bedtime! The best part of the day.

7:00 pm - 9:00 pm - Homework

9:00 pm: Fiance comes home, usually bearing pizza.

9:30 pm - 1 am - Watch TV or a movie with Fiance until one or both of us pass out/drag the other to bed.

Of course, sometime between the time we go to bed, and the time we wake up, Little Miss usually wakes up with a wet diaper or a bad dream, in which case we're up with her until we can convince her to go back to sleep. Or she'll use the curtains to climb out of bed and come into our room to inform us that she had a good nap.

Silly, silly child.

Why I would lose a fight with a two year old.

I realized yesterday that if I were to ever enter a boxing ring and fight against my two year old, I would probably lose.

"Why?" You might ask. "She's two? Are you that weak and pathetic that you would lose against a two year old?"

Let me let you in on a little secret: I'm convinced this child is not just a normal two year old. 

For starters, she's over half as tall as I am. I'm 5'0". She comes up over my waist. This can be explained through her father, who is also freakishly tall at 6'5". (I actually had a lady ask if I have to stand up on a step stool to kiss him. The answer is no, I don't. He has to bend down and I have to stand on my tiptoes. However, if a step stool is around, I sometimes will use it to even the playing field, so to speak.)

Another reason, is that she's vicious. A little kid came up at the playground and hit her in the back. She retaliated by whipping around and kicking him in the testicles. The cat got in her way while she was on her quest to get into the cat food while I was trying to fix the TV, and she sodomized him with a fork. That cat didn't come inside for days.

She also has this habit of grabbing onto your nipples, and will not let go no matter what to do. I don't care if you're Danny Trejo - if there are thirty pounds of laughing, amused toddler swinging back and forth and holding onto your nipples, you'd fall to the ground in pain too. 

                                                       See? He doesn't like the sound of that.

Little Miss finds your weak spots, and she uses them for her own enjoyment. Does she need to mercilessly grab onto your nipples with a Death Grip that will frighten Chuck Norris away? No. But she does it anyway. Why?

Because while you're screaming and doing everything in your power besides bashing her over the head with a $145 psychology textbook, she's having the time of her life. She will fall down, pulling on your sensitive ta-tas even more, and swing back and forth, laughing at your tears.

Of course, I discipline her for it. Does that ruin the amusement factor for her? Of course not. She thinks it's funny, Daddy thinks it's funny....hell, even my own parents think it's funny. I apparently, do not get the joke.

In conclusion, my freakishly tall, vicious two year old can totally take me down in a boxing match if she ever uses the Toddler Nipple Death Grip again.