New Year’s Resolutions: Toddler Edition

Side note: I’m amending Oliver’s resolutions to include cooperating with all of his mother’s blog related photo shoots. After multiple attempts, this was the best one I got.


The other day I asked Oliver if he would like to set some New Year’s resolutions.

“Yea” he exclaimed enthusiastically.

To be completely honest, that wasn’t a very fair question. Oliver is famous for saying “yea” to any question you ask him, true or not.

Case in point, here is a recent conversation I had with him about ice cream—a very important topic if you’re a toddler.

“Oliver would you like some ice cream?” I ask

“Yea,” he answers, excitedly clapping his hands.

Now sitting in his high chair, the first bite just about to pass his lips I ask, “Oliver is ice cream yucky?” I scrunch up my face and stick out my tongue—toddler speak for gross.

“Yea” he says again, smiling as ice cream drips down his chin.

“Well since you don’t like it should we give your ice cream to daddy?” I gesture toward my husband sitting on the other side of Oliver.


I grab the ice cream bowl to slide it over to my husband, and Oliver erupts into tears. It’s like I’m literally taking away the only bowl of ice cream left in the entire world. I push it back toward him, feeling both satisfied that I just proved to my husband that Oliver is an indecisive flip-flopper and terrible because I just stole ice cream from a baby.

I often use his tendency to say “yea” to my advantage. There’s nothing better on a bad day than hearing a resounding yes to the question ‘am I the best mom ever?’ or ‘is mommy super funny or what?’ I know that sometimes his relentless string of “yeas” can lead to a few fibs, but I like to think he answers these questions truthfully.

I also like to think he was being sincere when telling me he thinks it would be fun to come up with a list of New Year’s resolutions for 2014, so that’s exactly what we did. Since toddler’s are fairly bad at coming up with long term goals, I took the liberty of helping Oliver craft his list.

After writing ten resolutions out, I ran them by him to make sure he could commit to each and every one.

“Oliver, do you promise to stick to all your New Year’s resolutions next year?”


I’m pretty sure that’s a binding agreement.


1. Mind My Own Business: Multiple times a day mommy likes to go into the bathroom and close the door. Obviously this means something so amazingly fun is going on in there that she doesn’t want to share. Next year, I will try to make my own fun outside the bathroom. Should I fail and still sneak in, I promise to not toss little pieces of toilet paper between her legs while she is mid-pee.

2. Respect Gravity. Mommy insists there is this thing called gravity and it is out to get me if I’m not careful. I’m pretty sure this gravity thing is just her excuse to not shadow me every time I try to scale the kitchen table. Never-the-less, I resolve not to treat every piece of furniture like my personal jungle gym.

3. Refine my palette. I will not eat food that the dog has already licked, chewed on, or eaten then spit up. The cat food at Grandma and Grandpa’s though is fair game.

4. Stand on my Own Two Feet. I like watching mommy cook. I like watching mommy cook so much that I insist she hold me while doing everything from pulling a casserole out of the oven to cutting vegetables with a very large knife. In the future I will give mommy the pleasure of cooking my breakfast, lunch, and dinner without insisting that she hold me while doing so, assuming she buys me a stool for Christmas.

5. Play With my Real Toys. Mommy tells me that there are certain items called toys, and that those are what I am supposed to play with. I say mommy is crazy because squeezing a full bottle of lotion all over the carpet is tons of fun. I promise to give all my “real” toys a second chance to wow me and save outlet covers, q-tips, nail polish, and dish soap for a rainy day.

6. Stop Making Prank Calls. I will accept my plastic, toy cell phone as a suitable replacement for mommy’s real, very breakable phone. I will then track down the all the random people I have accidently called and reassure them that the loud breathing on the other end of the line was just me and not a psychopath waiting to murder them.

7. Schedule Cuteness. I’m super cute. It’s one of the reasons I get away with so much mischief. From here on out though, I will not do anything cute unless mommy has her camera at the ready. This includes making my scrunchy face, impromptu dancing, and messy eating where spaghetti is involved.

8. Broaden my TV horizons. Mickey Mouse is awesome. And don’t get me started on that Hot Dog Song. But it’s high time I learn to appreciate some other shows and movies. Mommy is pushing for Jurassic Park but I’m hoping we can compromise with Barney.

9 Become King of the Potty. Let’s face it. I’ll turn two next July and this milestone is inevitable. Also, flushing the toilet after mommy pees is the best thing ever. If I pee in the toilet I get double flushes.

10. Learn to say “no.” Do I like to say “yea?” Hell yea! But mommy tells me I confuse her by answering yes to every single question. There are a bunch of other fun words out there and I will master some of them. Then I will tell mommy what I really think about her New Year’s resolutions.