My child spent this entire 4th of July holiday week fighting for freedom, declaring her independence and exercising her seemingly inalienable toddler rights, all of which I pay dearly for infringing upon.

Baby Crying on deck
I know, I know, this looks utterly sad, she’s so frustrated…because she couldn’t shut the door by herself ūüôĀ

The right to wear Mommy’s sunglasses in the lake, or scream the fish out of the water.

The pursuit of happiness in stepping off the dock, ascending the stairs, standing in the bath tub, and adjusting the stove knobs¬†…without interference of a governing body.

The right to privacy while exploring the contents of desk drawers, bathroom cabinets, trash cans, closets,¬†and flower pots ‚Äď and the welfare of constant attention, accompaniment and companionship otherwise.

The liberty to eat seconds off an adult plate, with the adult fork, over carpet or…from ev’ry mountainside let freedom ring…let mortal tongues awake…the sound prolooooooong.

Security against unreasonable search and seizure of choke-able or breakable objects.

Freedom of religion to embark upon throw-down tantrums during mealtime prayers, where guests are present – and freedom to quickly un-exercise that freedom with acceptable trade of goods and services.

Baby Pouting
This isn’t praying, just sayin.

To rise against a long train of abuses and usurpations involving the remote control (during the most critical part of any given film or program) with the vocal tenacity of an uncaged lion.

Freedom of speech to have unfettered, on-demand communication via any device used by a governing body (cellphone, house phone, i-pad, desk top, calculator) especially during active use ‚Äď and to (this week) drop a phone in the toilet.

Baby on Phone
Even if no one answers, it’s always pretty chatty.

The right to quickly defend borders against adult encroachment (especially adults stepping through safety gates with laundry baskets) and to use force to dismantle and dislodge borders when used to contain citizens under the age of two.

Freedom of expression in removing diapers, even duct taped ones.

To not be subject for the same offence (throwing food on the floor) to be twice put in jeopardy of limb (spanked hand) and the right to retaliate further threats of discipline with a 2nd, 3rd, 4th, 5th, or 6th round.

Right to form a militia of one with an arsenal of hitting, biting, gnawing, pinching, nose tweaking (the worst), scratching and hair pulling and to amplify the same following any attempt at disciplinary measures.

Right to peaceably assemble in bed with a parent, before every dawn’s early light, to redress the earlier grievance of having been put to bed at all.

The right to be free of car seat restraints prior to actual restraint.

The right to selectively exercise the above rights in the presence of some but not others (specifically not in front of anyone a governing body has allied with).

With the exception of always exercising the right to pull, lift, fully remove, or partially remove, parental clothing in the presence of others.

In other words…a LOT of fireworks. And not the pretty rocket’s red glare kind either in this Toddler’s Declaration of Independence.

Losing battles left and right, still aiming to win the war.

But have you seen my adorable Muffin? I mean what’s not to love?!