The Imagination Movers Know How To Find The Wall

When you combine a Night Owl with an Early Bird, you get An Alexis--a creature who throws her head back and laughs in the face of any "expert" who says someone her age should get 10-12 hours of sleep per night. Recently, Alexis has been working on really testing the depths of her Early Bird skills, and it's probably my fault.

I think it was two months ago when a perky little person popped her face up against mine and shoved my eyelids open with her chubby little fingers. "Momma, I'm not sleepy," she said.

My alarm hadn't gone off yet, which meant it was Too Damn Early O'Clock. I growled, "Go find your father," and shoved my head under my pillow.

Alexis did find her dad that morning and he did what anyone with any sense would do--he delayed having to be a parent by turning on the Disney Channel and shoving a bowl of cereal in the kid's face. He leaves WAY before my alarm even goes off, so really, the best thing for Little Miss Not Sleepy to do was to curl up on the couch and let Mickey keep her company.

She decided to make it a habit.

Several times each week, Alexis somehow hears Mr. Husband rumbling around in the kitchen between 4:30 and 5:00 in the morning. She skips down the stairs and parks her butt on the couch so that she can happily spend a couple of hours hanging with Mickey and her Shredded Wheat.

A normal human being would rather sleep than watch TV at 5:00 in the morning. Obviously, she isn't normal.

Every time I wake up only to find my kid had disappeared to the family room, I think SURELY today will be the day that she lives to regret getting up so early. Every time I am wrong. She remains fully functional all through the day, and is usually still obnoxiously happy when her bed time rolls around at 9:00. It's disgusting, really. And exhausting. As in, I need a nap just thinking about it.

Today, though. TODAY. Today was the day that Alexis finally found her wall. She was wide awake at 4:00am. She was ready to get dressed and head to school because in her head, the sooner she got to school, the sooner it would be time to go to the Imagination Movers show. I managed to delay her for an hour, but then she went and found a sucker who would turn on a TV for her.

Fast forward SEVENTEEN hours. SEVENTEEN hours later, the child stood dancing and singing and generally having a crazy good time as Rich, Scott, Dave, and Smitty rocked out. One second she was happy. The next second it looked like an Alexis-shaped plane crash landed into the theater. She was still generally pleasant, but looking into her eyes was like standing in a black tunnel and seeing the telltale light as a train approached.

The train punched me in the face during the drive home after the show. I had told the kid it was OK if she fell asleep in the car. She responded by telling me it would be OK if I just screwed myself.

Perhaps not literally, but it's what she meant.

There was some nonsense about how she was thirsty and I must have taken her water out of the car and OMG how dare I leave her water at the table at dinner and WHERE IS SOME WATER, WOMAN. SERVE ME. OR DIE.

Apparently she couldn't sleep? Breathe? Exist? Something . . . unless she got a drink of water Right. That. Second. Last time I checked, I don't look like a drinking fountain, so she was just plain out of luck until we got home.

It was a very pleasant drive home. Or something.

But at least the show was really good.

Tell Me This Isn't A Thing Because ACK!

A hurricane of birthday party invitations has blown into our home, sucking up time but delivering Alexis a mountain of happiness. She has been enjoying attending one party after another after another for the past few months. If she's happy, I'm happy, so it has been a Very Good Thing.

Except.

There is a trend that seems to have infiltrated the pre-school sector. I don't get it. At all.

Is it just me, or is it nuts to have a registry for a 4 or 5-year olds birthday party?

Mind you, I am from the Land of Opposite of Birthday Registries. For Alexis' first real party, I asked people to bring canned goods for a donation to a local food bank in lieu of gifts. The guests didn't listen very well, which created some conflict when those who did listen felt bad for not showing up with a real gift. But, I did mean it. The kid didn't need a single thing. NOTHING. She was aware of the arrangement and that she shouldn't expect presents and was OK with it.

I didn't want to repeat the conflict this year, so I just let people do whatever. It. Was. Ridiculous. RIDICULOUS.

 

Alexis has played with maybe half of that stuff. The other half is just taking up space in a closet until the day comes when she's looking for something new to be the center of her world for a minute or two. I think it's safe to say I'm going to go back to a present-free sort of party next year, if I can figure out a way to make it not awkward.

Anyway, I know I'm all sorts of anti-ridiculous birthday gifts, but I just can't figure out a world in which it makes sense to let a 5-year old wander around a store and make a list of potential birthday gifts. Some of the registries I've seen have been mostly reasonable, but one had a long list of items that started at $50.

$50. $50!

The most expensive item on that list was $150, which, HAHAHAHAHA! Yeah, I'll get right on spending $150 on a gift for your kid. (Spoiler: I won't spend that much on my own kid.) Maybe they just did one list and also gave it to grandparents or whatever, but still. It was really hard not to ask what they were thinking with that list. It wasn't an over-the-top fancy party by any means, but the registry sure was.

Registry or not, Alexis thinks everyone wants a Barbie for their birthday. I'll just keep on letting her pick one out each time we are getting ready to go to a party.

The Apple Doesn't Fall Far From The Big-Mouthed Tree

"Somebody is in trouble," I thought to myself as I walked in the room. I had missed the first fifteen minutes of dance class while I wandered around on a quest to find my cell phone. I returned just in time to hear the teacher scolding one of the girls.

I walked up to the window so I could watch the remainder of the class. They are getting close to recital time, so it's fun to watch as the last of the pieces of their routine fall into place.

I wasn't concerned with who was in trouble. There is one girl in particular who is a bit more free-spirited than the others. She rarely makes it through a class with something distracting her a little too much. I assumed she was the somebody. But, as I looked through the glass, I spotted Alexis standing face-to-face with another little girl. Her arms were crossed and her chin was down--her "I'm in trouble but it won't count if I don't look at you" posture. It wasn't somebody who was in trouble. It was my somebody.

As the teacher talked to Alexis about what she had done, the edges of reality began to shift. It was as if I was watching myself get scolded, although I never took a single dance class, nor wanted to. It wasn't the setting that was so familiar, it was Alexis' reaction to the scolding. The posture, the stance, the stiff lip, it was all so very familiar.

The teacher turned to Alexis and stared until Alexis' eyes began to drift upward. "Do you understand, Alexis?" the teacher asked.

"Use your filter. Use your filter. Use your filter," I thought, over and over again. I was born completely lacking that filter that most people have between their mouths and the part of the brain that reacts to situations. I just blurt the first words that come to me, often without taking even a split second to consider the consequences.

Alexis may not look anything like me, but HOOBOY did she get that filter-free attitude. It's hard to explain how it's different than any other 5-year old when Alexis says something inappropriate. I just know it is because I recognize it. I do it. I am it.

"This is stupid," Alexis replied. So much for using that filter.

The Mini Me continued to dig her way into a deep hole, all the while looking and sounding EXACTLY like I did when I was that age.

It took me about 30 years to learn to control my mouth. I can only hope Alexis figures it out much faster.

And don't even get me started on the eyerolling. ::sigh::