Betsy of Fluffy Windover's Diary talks about the time-consuming endeavor of leaving the house with a toddler in this week's Toddler Thursday:

The other day, a friend of mine who has a 2-month old baby was lamenting that it takes forever to get out of the house. I said, “Ha! You just wait until you have a toddler!” I know, I know; I should have bitten my tongue. Generally, a sure-fire way to tick off a first time pregnant woman or a new mother is to respond to a complaint with, “You just wait!” But some mornings, I miss those days when Edwin was a portable infant, strapped into a car seat. Back then, I was still a punctual person.

These days, getting out of the house is a major ordeal. First, I have to convince Edwin that he cannot wear pajamas all day. Then comes outfit selection, which is kind of what I imagine dressing a star for the Golden Globes must be like. “No! I don’t like that one! I want the blue one! This one’s itchy! Call my agent!” Next is the shoe production. This is possibly the hardest part of getting out of the house. Finding a matching pair is the first challenge, since he takes them off everywhere. So there is usually one in the car, one in my purse, one in the pantry, one in the bathtub, etc. Getting them on him is pretty easy, provided I can catch him first, because it is at this point in the process when he runs away from me. 

Having tackled him and wrestled on his shoes and coat, it’s time to go to the car. He’s at the stage where he wants to get in the car all by himself, though it takes him 20 minutes to do so. Even though it’s faster for me to just carry him out to the car and get him into the seat myself, his protesting screams might lead the neighbors to call social services. So I usually let him get in himself. Resisting the urge just pick him up and put him in the car seat is difficult, but I have found that toddlers have a keen sense of when you’re in a rush. They can detect stress and irritation in your voice, and this makes them dilly-dally even more. So I play it cool, like I’m in no hurry, and say, “What a big boy getting into the seat yourself! Well done!”

Once he’s fully dressed and safely in the car seat, right before we back down the driveway, he says, “Mommy, I’m thirsty. Please have some milk?” And of course I have forgotten to bring a snack and drink, so I have to go back inside, where I usually discover something else I’ve forgotten. By the time I’m back in the car and ready go to, Edwin has taken off his shoes and one of them is wedged firmly under the front seat. By this time, I’ve forgotten where were we going in the first place.

Happy travels!