- Start the pre-car journey about two hours in advance, gently introducing your toddler to the concept of getting dressed.
- Present the clothing options like they’re treasures, approaching your little one with patience and enthusiasm.
- Your toddler suddenly remembers their favorite game of hide and seek.
- Employ the Love and Logic technique: offer a choice—come to you for a smooth dressing experience or have you come to them for a less pleasant one.
- Acknowledge that creating meaningful choices for toddlers is not something you excel at.
- Out of nowhere, your toddler recalls that rainbow band-aid their sibling received weeks ago.
- A frantic search for an invisible owie begins.
- After some intense finger squeezing, a suspicious redness is discovered.
- Your toddler insists that a rainbow band-aid is absolutely necessary for their “injured” finger.
- You remind yourself of your commitment to being a reasonable parent and calmly say, “No band-aid needed right now.”
- Your toddler launches a full-scale Rainbow Band-aid Campaign, loud and unyielding.
- The volume of this campaign makes you question your life choices.
- Boundaries? What boundaries?
- Moments later, your toddler emerges from the bathroom sporting 15 band-aids across various body parts.
- You convince yourself this is a charming act of independence.
- Suddenly, your toddler declares they are now a puppy and starts barking.
- Embrace the moment, and encourage your “puppy” to get dressed.
- Enjoying the puppy game, your toddler almost finishes dressing until they realize their shirt is “too heavy.”
- They begin removing all their clothes in protest.
- You’ve entered a wrestling match to get them dressed—tears are shed on both sides.
- With your bag packed, you navigate toward the stairs.
- A reminder hits you—your toddler dislikes being carried on the stairs since yesterday.
- At the top, your toddler’s legs seem to malfunction.
- Crying ensues because you’re not carrying them, so you scoop them up.
- Then, they remember ice cream and Grandma, demanding both immediately.
- You gently inform them that breakfast doesn’t include ice cream and Grandma lives far away.
- Your toddler, now quite angry, threatens you with a time-out.
- A twinge of fear creeps in, but you realize you only have five minutes left and you can’t be intimidated by a two-year-old.
- You start to carry your toddler down the stairs, when they recall that being held feels like thousands of independence-squelching knives.
- They stomp down the stairs indignantly, walking on their own.
- Your toddler insists on climbing into the car solo.
- But alas, the car is muddy, and you must wrangle your flailing toddler into the car seat while dodging their limbs.
- Miraculously, by the time you reach the driver’s seat, the tears have stopped.
- Your toddler suddenly identifies as a Baby Mermaid and demands compliments about their shiny tail.
- They also want to know how cats function.
- Next, the sunlight streaming through the window becomes blindingly bright for them.
- They request a rendition of “The Wheels on the Bus.”
- As you begin to sing, your toddler orders you to stop, visibly upset.
- You place your head on the steering wheel, feeling your sanity teetering on the edge.
- After all this, you finally settle into the car, feeling as though you’ve conquered mountains and negotiated with tiny, mischievous aliens.
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Summary
Navigating the task of getting your toddler into the car can feel like an epic quest fraught with challenges, from clothing battles to creative distractions. However, with patience, humor, and a little creativity, you can tackle the journey and make it to the car—eventually.