Sorry I Peed on You (and Other Heartwarming Letters to Mommy) (5 page)

I am so happy you’re here to witness this proud day in baby history! I have just become the first toddler to make the solo climb to the top of Mount Kitchen Table. It wasn’t easy. Several previous tries were aborted when you’d run up and yank me off of the chair that leads to the summit. You even went so far as to remove all the chairs from the table, forcing me to remain at base camp for weeks. But then you put the chairs back and were momentarily distracted by a phone call. That’s when I knew conditions were perfect to reach the top.

I know that many toddlers have tried to reach the summit of Mount Kitchen Table. Even the cat, on several occasions, has briefly reached the peak, only to have you yell “Get that cat off the table!” And to answer your question “Why do you keep trying to climb onto the table?” Because it is there, Mommy. Because it is there.

I’m glad sticking stuff on my head amuses you. I know that I still wake you up at night with my crying, so if dressing me like this helps remind you how cute I am and relieves some stress, I’m happy. And I must admit that I do look very cute. It’s not every infant who can pull off the green-stripes-with-a-single-pink-polka-dot-pacifier-clip look. But this thing you stuck on my head makes me wonder if you have an unfulfilled fantasy of being a Vegas showgirl.

You’ve got about six more months of putting stuff on my head before I start to become aware of how important clothes are. I will then drive you crazy getting dressed every morning. You’ll wish you’d dressed me in a potato sack, and it’ll be a good thing that you’ve got the little shopping cart. Because if I don’t like my outfit, it’ll be the only way you’ll get me outside.

I would first like to thank this book’s wonderful editor and an incredibly awesome person, Lane Butler, to whom I am profoundly grateful for her unending faith in my projects. Huge thanks also to my excellent agent, David Fugate, for his subtle wisdom; and to the very gifted Nicole Ghazal at MSN, for bringing in a fresh voice and allowing me to share my life with millions of parents. I, of course, still bow to the guru, Chris Federico.

I would also like to thank Kathy Hilliard for her great promotional work; everyone else at Andrews McMeel for working their butts off to make this book great; and all the people at team MSN who graciously made room for The Family Room.

Very special thanks as well to Jessica Smith, Ginger Young Fisher, Ashley Cochran, Monika Orrey, and Sam Thorpe—for taking time from their busy lives to help that crazy kid from school.

This book wouldn’t exist without all of the wonderful families who contributed their photos. Thank you to the Chengs, the Cochrans, the Doyles, the Fischers, the Frenches, the Fugates, the Galantes, the Ghazals, the Greenbergs, the Grossmans, the Heffners, the Logelins, the Neises, the Romyns, the Smiths, the Tiches, the Wards, and the Young Fishers.

Also, huge thanks to all of the excellent photographers who allowed their work to appear in the book: Sara Benson, “Wyatt’s First Day of Preschool,” page 34; Kyle Connolly, “Concerned Kid,” page 53; Abra Cook, “Yummy Dirt,” page 42; Greg Dodson, “Shoeless in December,” page 41; Amanda Hatton, “Grumpy at the Barn,” page 50; Jorge Moreno Jr., “Couch Jumping,” page 17; Roland Polczer, “Kid in the Market,” page 33; and Laura Yurs, “Toddler Graffiti” page 29.

Let me save my absolute deepest thanks for my family: First and foremost to my wonderful wife, Barbara, for putting up with my long hours and for believing; to my sons, Ben and Seth, for being funnier than me; and to my parents and Arlene, Lauren, Jonathan, Ryann, Ethan, Ava, and Dagny; and to everyone else I have known and been inspired by. Thank you!