Ode to My Toddler

To my sweet baby girl,
growing up too soon,
you once stuffed cotton up your nose
and sneezed all afternoon.

Oh my little darling,
As unpredictable as spring,
you can belt the whole ‘clean-up’ song
without picking up a thing.
(And when it comes to lullabies
you insist Dad doesn't sing.)

How I adore when you ask me to peel your sucker,
and take the lid off your banana.
Hopefully by the time you’re a tween
Hannah Montana will have blown over…
(Crap, I meant to rhyme Hannah with banana)

You want so much to be near me,
you’ll step fully-clothed into the shower.
There’s really no contending
with your crazy lust for power.

Whenever I sit on the toilet
you have a front row seat;
I frequently bribe your compliance
with the promise of a treat.

I know it’s all theatrics when you shout:
I don’t want Mommy!
And soon you’ll come around
and we’ll do some origami.

You have an uncanny way
of making me want to scream—
but let’s put all that behind us
and be on the same team.