I have been infected with toddlerism.

Let me just take a minute to B r e a t h…

sigh.

That’s better.

Lately I feel like I have lost myself in the shuffle of toddlerism.

I have listened to too many kids songs (If I have to listen to B-I-N-G-O one more time I’m gonna…. *fist shaking ferociously in the air.) I only seem to read picture books and I tend to say things like “oh silly goose” “opps a daisy” “uh oh” “no no” “where's your pee pee?” which that tends to be the only type of conversations I have.

I swear I’ve played monster to many times to count, watched so many cartoons that if I see another one I think I might just die and what’s sad is that the only places I seem to go now are kid museums and kid activities and KID EVERYTHING!

I need a break.

Not from caring for Wyatt but I need an hour or something of just plain old good “ADULT” time.

The problem is that I don’t even know what “adult time” is any more. I’m so far gone in toddlerism that the adult world has become this fantasy, this far of world that doesn’t seem to exist anymore.
When people talk about it they talk like it was a billion years ago that even if you tried to enter into that world that you would never be able to return. It’s that far, it’s that nonexistent that the reality of it had passed and it will never again return.

So I press forward I continue to listen to those lovely kid songs and talk like I am 5 and get up early in the morning just so I can turn those cartoons on and watch them lifeless for hours and I pray that one day the adult world will exist once more and they will reinstate my membership and I will once again be the adult that I so desperately want to be.

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