The illogical world of toddlers

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There's something incredibly illogical about living with a toddler.

One second, you can be wrapped up in the sweetest, most heart-warming cuddles, wondering how on earth you'll get through the rest of your life without a toddler in it.

You cling to that moment, marvel at the joy your little one brings you, and hope this stage lasts forever.

The next second, you're stuck in Lack of Logic-ville.

We all know that toddlers don't use logic. You can't reason with them. They have minimal understanding of cause and effect.

I'm not saying it like it's their fault. Developmentally, they just haven't got those kinds of skills.

But it can make life rather interesting.

For instance, when my toddler climbs onto the kitchen table, she is triumphant, and does her little, 'Woohoo, I made it onto the table!' dance. In her mind, she's just reached nirvana.

(On a side note, I'm starting to think her main aim in life is just to be on the kitchen table.)


I, on the other hand, immediately start trying to get her off the kitchen table, worried that she could fall and hurt herself.

She thinks this is pretty funny, and tries to run away from me. This causes my blood pressure to rise as I frantically try to grab her before she falls and hits her head.

When she's safely back on the ground again, my toddler's pretty peeved at my attempts to ruin her fun.

I'm pretty sure her thinking goes something along the lines of 'Kitchen table: good to dance on'. The end. That's it. No further logic there.

She doesn't think about the fact that dancing on the table can lead to falling off the table and injuring herself badly.

Not every illogical act she does can lead to potential danger. Another time when logic is not her friend relates to bananas.

Yes, bananas.

My little one loves bananas, but she only likes eating them when she gets to peel them herself.

That would be fine if she knew how to peel a banana. (Spoiler alert: she doesn't.)

Instead, she squishes and squashes the end of the banana till it's turned into messy goo. She then bursts into tears, upset that her good banana's ruined.

If I dare attempt to peel it for her, she bursts into tears, upset that I'm ruining her banana-peeling experience.

Pretty much the only time she doesn't burst into tears is if I offer her slices of pre-peeled banana.

This morning, my little one saw me eating porridge with sliced banana. She pointed to the banana, said, 'Nana!' then pointed to herself (50 points for cuteness, I must admit).

So I went behind the fridge and started peeling her a banana where she couldn't see what I was doing. I thought that was clever of me, but no, she'd followed me and saw what I had done.

After my daughter finally got over her banana meltdown, she went off to play on her own for a bit, and then, out of nowhere, called out a massive, 'Mama!' and came running, full-speed ahead, for a giant cuddle. She took my face in her hands and planted kisses on my nose.

She scrunched up her face as I kissed her belly, and made the cutest noises as I scooped her up for giant cuddles.

Right then, in that moment, I had that thought again; the one about wishing I could have a toddler in my life forever and wondering how on earth I'll cope when I don't.

And then it hit me.

While I go on about how toddlers lack logic, the truth is that I also do.

Because even though I spend a good majority of my time taking my toddler off the kitchen table and hiding behind the fridge to peel bananas, I wouldn't want it any other way.

Now where's the logic in that?

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