Thursday, March 1, 2012

Part 2 - The Toddler Years

NOTE: This series is directed at a teenage and older audience, as it contains reference to subjects such as "woohoo", though the word may not actually be used. You have been warned!


Welcome back to my scrapbook, where I'm writing my autobiography! Let's move on to my toddler years!

It's said that a person can remember back to when they're three years old, but no sooner. I suppose that's true, though there are a few things that tickle my mind from time to time, and some things seem familiar, almost as though I'm remembering them, yet not being able to place them.

One such example of this is when I was eating in my high chair, and eating something other than formula in a bottle. I look at the picture below and I can almost remember sitting in that high chair, staring out into the kitchen and living room (our first house had an open floor plan), and stuffing some sort of funky food in my mouth.


My parents thought this was so funny, the way I licked my fingers as if to say, "Yummy!" Somehow I think my opinion now would be different if I was forced to eat whatever that is again.


Because I was an only child, I was pretty pampered, though some would say I was spoiled. Not that I'm complaining. I do remember when I was younger that I wanted a little sister, but that's one present I never got. Of course, as I grew up more, I became grateful for that. I liked not having to share my toys, my room, and anything else with a sibling.

This picture probably wouldn't have come out as cute if I'd had a sibling, because we'd probably be fighting over the poor bear.


Those pictures were taken when I was two. On my third birthday, I was so excited because of all the presents I got. Here's Mom helping me out with blowing out the candles.


My parents got me a giant teddy bear just for my birthday, and I played with it all day.


I wanted to sleep with it too, but my parents were, and still are, pretty overprotective, and they were afraid that because it was so big, it would suffocate me in the middle of the night. Of course, I didn't realize that then, so I threw a fit about it but my parents didn't give in. Somehow I eventually got to sleep.

I remember all that, but one thing I don't remember is something that comes naturally to almost anyone - walking. I don't remember taking my first steps, but my parents said it was hard to get me to stop crawling to get anywhere (and don't even get them started on potty training; I was scared of the big toilet!). But they finally got me to rely on my legs instead of my hands and knees, and made sure to get a picture of it.


That dress I was wearing was one of my favorites. I was so sad when I outgrew it. I even tried to wear it a few years down the road but it wouldn't quite fit. I'm not even sure where it came from, but I loved it. In fact, I loved wearing dresses as a toddler, but that changed as I got older. But more about that later.

Then came the first Halloween I went trick-or-treating. Mom was going to stay at home on candy duty while Dad took me around Riverview. There were several costumes to choose from, but apparently my parents asked me what I wanted to be that year and I said, "Bear". I guess I was still in love with that giant teddy bear. So for my first Spooky Day trick-or-treating, I dressed up as a teddy bear.


I had a lot of fun, until Dad put me in my car seat and forgot that he'd left my candy bucket on top of the car. He was driving down the street and all of a sudden I heard something. Yep, you guessed it - my pumpkin bucket filled with candy fell off the top of the car and spilled in the street, right in front of the police station. I cried so hard about that, that Dad had to stop and pick up the candy while keeping an eye on me in the car. I remember that a police officer came outside and asked what was going on, and when he found out what happened, he busted up laughing. Mom had the same reaction when Dad brought me home and told her.

I got to eat a few pieces of candy that night, then my parents put me to bed. I was tired so I fell asleep quickly. They got this picture of me too; again, another innocent face sleeping.


Like I said, I was pretty spoiled growing up; if I saw a toy I wanted, most of the time I'd end up with it. I was a toddler with a pretty short attention span, but the good part was, if one toy got old, there were several more to take that one's place.



When Snowflake Day approached on my third year of life, my parents took me to a store where Santa was sitting in the center, letting kids sit on his lap and tell them what they wanted for Snowflake Day. I don't remember what I told him, or if I even said anything because I was pretty shy, but I do have this picture:


When Snowflake Day morning arrived, I crawled out of my crib (yes, I was able to get out of my crib at three years old, and this was before I got my "big girl bed") and ran toward the tree. Then I ran into my parents' room and bounced up and down on their bed until they got up.

My parents had given me a xylophone. You can tell I was thrilled to get that! For toddlers, the nosier an object is, the more fun it is for some reason.


Then my parents broke out the really big present, an activity table. It had blocks and papers for coloring and drawing. That was also pretty fun and less of a headache for my parents.


Grandma came over later that day for dinner; every year she'd choose one son to spend Snowflake Day with, and that year she happened to choose my dad. Mom had me in a pretty dress while I banged away on my xylophone. My parents were both grateful when Grandma gave me her gift, a stuffed tiger. It was much more quiet than my previous toy, plus easier to hug. You can see me with it here as Mom prepares dinner in the background.


Graduation is a big part of anyone's life, but when people hear that, they tend to automatically think of a high school graduation. For me, my first graduation was from pre-school. All pre-school classes put on some sort of special act in celebration, and we did a play. I got to play an ant that fell through the floor (what the heck kind of play was that anyway?).

Here I am walking toward my pre-school teacher (it's sad, I can't even remember her name, but I do remember that she was very nice), who had to beckon me forward on account of being so shy. No wonder I have stage fright; it must be in my blood.


That was the end of my pre-school years, and it concludes my toddler years. Next up are my childhood years, and there is a lot of information there! Stay tuned and thanks for reading!

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