Is It Just Me, or Does Every Two-Year-Old Have Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder?

duck blanketGoodnight, baby. I love you.

Goodnight, other baby. I love you.

What’s that? Your blanket is wrong? Let me help me help you. Is that better? Now you’re all cozy and tucked in just right.

Oh, it’s still wrong? What about your feet? Oh, your toe is out. There. I covered your little toesie. All better. I love you!

What? No, your blanket is fine. Ducks? What? Oh, I see. The teddy bear side is facing up, but you want the duck side to face up. Okay. I will turn it over. There. Perfect! Close your little eyes, you sleepy head!

No, your blanket is not wrong. I fixed it. See, the ducks are facing up! How? Oh, you want the blanket to cover your doggy too. Oh, not that doggy. Where is your other doggy? Hold on, I will go find it.

There. There’s your big doggy. Wrong way? Oh, here, let me turn it around. There, his head is by your head and the blanket is covering him. Okay?

What now? Your “tebby bear” fell down? Well, pick him up! I guess if you move your arm that would mess up the duck blanket covering the doggy. Okay, there, the tebby bear is propped in the corner again. No, I promise he won’t fall over. He will sit there in the corner. Yes, he’s sitting. See? Good NIGHT!

Stop crying! What is it now? Your crocodile is right there. He’s fine. Oh, I forgot, he has to wrap around the top of your head like a turban. There. Turban crocodile. GO TO SLEEP.

You HAVE your lovey. It’s under your face. And other lovey too. Yes, it’s under your belly. You HAVE BOTH LOVIES.


Doze? Hose? Nose? What’s about your nose? What does that mean? Oh, there, I will wipe it with a tissue.


Who pooped?

Bedtime Will Be Your Favorite Part of the Day: Parenting after Infertility Doesn’t Make You Special

You worked really hard for your children, right? You had to do mountains of adoption paperwork, or hundreds of IVF injections, right? You put in more hours and effort – and, yes, money – than anybody should have to do to bring a child into this world, right? Well, here’s the thing: that doesn’t make you special.

Sure, it makes you special for a little while. But, now that your child (children) is (are) here, you are just like every other parent in the world. And that is just how you want it.

Bedtime will be your favorite part of the day.

You will catch your kid’s vomit in your hands (or, maybe, even in your mouth, like I did recently).

You will have sleep-deprivation so deep that you search the dryer for the frozen pizza and search the freezer for the clean blankie.

You will have to throw away that poopy underwear or cut off that poopy onesie after some horrific accident that isn’t even worth cleaning up properly.

You will sometimes only eat string cheese and animal crackers for dinner, and then you will proudly post a food-porn photo of it on social media to compete with all your non-parenting friends’ fancy dinners.

You will get a letter from the public library threatening to send you to a collections agency for those really really late books that “must be around here somewhere”.

Your kid’s whining will make you want to jump out of your skin – or at least out of your window.

You will one day think, “I would take a bullet for this kid.” And, then, one night when you think you can’t possibly get up one more time, you will realize that you are taking a bullet for this kid.

You aren’t special.

You are just a parent. You are like every other parent throughout all of human history, throughout the entire world, because you love that child. And that is just how it should be.




Would you care to add to my list? What else makes bedtime your favorite part of the day?


This article originally appeared on Beyond Infertility, a website about how parenting after infertility is different. I am a regular contributor to their website. You can find the original article here.