Your Toddler Waze

Thank you for downloading the Toddler Waze app, the most innovative navigation technology in existence. Through crowdsourcing and real-time updates, we make your commute more toddler-like everywhere you go.


See another car? We know you just love to point out every one on the *#%@ing road, so now you can just say “car” and we mark them for you. Every. Single. One. Until your screen is as clogged as the driver’s poor, poor eardrums.

What about a horse? Don’t you think other toddlers would like to know one is coming up, too? Again, just shout out the word and a marker is put on the interactive mapping app. Same goes for dog, sheep, cow and water. See something? By golly say something.


Wait– what’s this? Oh, don’t worry. You just pressed a bunch of buttons on the device and are now steaming Curious Geo–Dora the–Sesame St– argh! Will you pick a show and stick with it, Kid?

Ok, back to Toddler Waze. Bird! Bird! (Other icons available include plane and Superman, since the three are often confused.)

If there is something happening on the side of the road, just say “uh oh” and an indiscriminate icon will pop up on your journey. Don’t worry about specifics; we know toddlers can’t tell the difference between a noisy muscle car and a car fire.

Hungry? Just yell “snack!” repeatedly until an adult gives you food. It doesn’t matter if you just ate, or have trouble enunciating because THERE IS THTILL FOOD IN YOUR MOUFF… you will get a snack with persistence. Also, be sure to click on the banner ad for Costco, sponsor of Toddler Waze and proud supplier of toddler snacks everywhere.


Finally, an optional feature is the “wee!” button. You can push this when going over speed bumps or down rolling country hills. Or if your parent has convinced you their bad driving is intentional, for extra entertainment. Now, why would they do that?


The Five Kids You Will Meet at Daycare

1. The Bully.  This kid is super cute and baby-faced, but man, does he pack a punch. I once watched him beat up a girl at her own birthday party! In the past, I used to really like him, but Mama K, the better judge of character, has always been wary. How can you spot him? The teacher is always correcting his behavior and his cubby almost always has an incident report attached to it. Also, Lucie really likes him, so they’re often causing mischief together. Greeeeaaaat.

2. Egghead. Nice kid, just has a funny shaped head. His mom is gorgeous, though, so there’s hope.

3. Nora. Blonde, smiley, smallest kid in the class. Always watching you like a haunted house portrait. Her parents are engineers, so naturally she mastered potty training in a week. Nora’s dad: “We didn’t even tell her to go; she just went!”

4. Disney Princess. Like, all of them mish-mashed together. Or, rather like their costumes were layered upon one another as a means to keep warm in a Disney snowpacolypse, and then peeled off in a random reveal.

5. Scuzzy. This is my favorite one!! Why, you ask? Because the minute she ran across the room with her ratty hair and raisin-covered face, I knew I loved her. Maybe not when Lucie gets lice or hand, foot & mouth disease from her, but in the meantime, she makes us look like really responsible parents. And, in this age of Lucie picking out all of her completely uncoordinated clothes, we need all the help we can get to look good. Even if it’s by comparison.

The villaining

So… you thought you were a decent human being, eh? We’ll try these things and then come back and let me know how good you feel about yourself:

– brush your kid’s hair while she cries and says “Mama, no.”

– take your toddler out past her bedtime and wake her up after you pull into the garage. You monster!

“This is my tired pose.”

– tell your child the last yogurt is the one flipped upside down by her on the kitchen floor.

– pull her away from a birthday party because she’s potty training and you don’t want a big mess in public. Instead, you get a meltdown.


Still feeling like a member of the human race?

– try taking her blanket away because she has FOUR already in the car.

– explain to her why the mamas can have beer but she can’t. Then consider giving her a little sip just to calm her down.

– take her to the dentist.

– scrub behind her ears.

– drop her off at daycare.

Meanie. Might as well call yourself Gaston or Ursula or Uncle Scar from now on.

Chances Are

Ladies and gentlemen, place your bets.

Probability that Little Bug will put her training pants on backwards: 2/5

Probability that she will try to put two legs into one leg hole of her training pants: 3/5

Chances that Little Bug will do a cannonball in her swim instructor’s face: 1/2

Chances that someone in her class will think splashing the instructor is funny and copy her: 1/4


Likelihood that Little Bug will successfully go “pee pee” in the toilet: 1/12

Likelihood that I will accidentally say “pee pee” in front of adults because I’ve been saying it at home so dang often: 5/6

Probability that she will eat the food from my plate, leaving me to finish her mangled version of the same meal: 1/4

Raisin bran sans raisins!

Odds that she will start yammering during an important phone call: 5/6

Chances of her keeping all of the Play-Dough on the table: 1/20

Probability of Little Bug managing to text someone in my phone book who I don’t really want to talk to, but keep in there for business purposes: 1/10

Probability of said text making any sense: 0/10

Probability of said text being auto-corrected into something embarrassing: 7/10

Likelihood that she’ll enjoy a trip to the carwash: 0/10


Likelihood that I’ll use “going to the carwash” as a threat against bad behavior: 0/100 (Come on, that’s mean… and expensive.)

Odds that she’ll be good at math: 8/9

Odds that she’s good at math right now: 1/3

I didn’t know my iPhone calculator could do that.

Probability that Little Bug will find the most germaphobic person in the room and either try to touch them with sticky hands or kiss them with an open mouth: 2/5

Likelihood that she will call someone “Mama,” regardless of gender: 2/3

Chances that she’ll decide to use her toddler bed as it was intended: 1/4

Roughing it

Beauty School

I’m no fashion expert. If I was, the world would be wearing workout clothes for everyday outfits.  Oh, wait.  I’m being told that’s an actual thing now– who knew?

Well, I may get the clothes right on occasion, but I know I definitely don’t get the hair.  As Gina Linetti from “Brooklyn Nine Nine” asks another hair-challenged character: “Did you make the cover of ‘Hair Pulled Back Magazine?'”  I would subscribe to that.


Except when it comes to Little Bug’s hair.  In that case, we drop her off at the hair salon (aka Daycare) and get back a very sensibly styled kid.  Observe the before and after:

So yes, we pay $300/week for French braids.  And indiscernible artwork.  This just goes toward the $300,000 it is estimated to cost a parent raising a kid these days.  Can’t buy me love?  I beg to differ, Patrick Dempsey.

Naming Rights

I have awesome news. (Mom, sit down, it’s not what you think.) If and when we get pregnant again, Mama K told me I have not 50%, not 75%, but 100% control over the next baby’s name! She forgets that we completely came up with Lucie’s name together, but… no take-backs!

And this was even after she saw me do our current kid’s hair!

The Lopsided Puppy Ears look is in this year?


After Mama K told me this and I calmed down (so, maybe 3-4 solid minutes of me hooting and hollering), I made it worse by going down the list of things I’ve named in the past:

Bird named Arnie

Bird named Checkmate (when I was learning to play chess)

Dog named Penny (after an obscure MacGyver character)

Female rodent named Eddie

Dog named Jack and then changed to Pac (like Pac Man)

Dog named Chicken

Cars named: Lil’ Champ (because it took my bad decisions in stride), Wimpy, Sharky, Ice Ice Baby, Bo Jackson and my current car, Donald Trump.

Silence. I also let Mama K know that I had a cactus as a kid. I decided to call it “Pricky.” My mom said, “Absolutely not!” and I asked her “Why not?” for about a minute or two and then settled on “Pokey.”

I’ll leave the readers with this final nugget… Lucie has part of my last name as her middle name. Cute, right? Well, the rest of my last name is “Bart,” and I’m all about keeping traditions.