When She's Good, I Seem Crazy

I realize that in this instance it's better to be crazy than to be right, but COME ON MILA. Mila, she of much curiosity, will choose to make a situation more complicated than necessary 99.9% of the time.

It's a fact.

It's a fact that I'm so confident in that I'm willing to bet my time on it. Alas, I had a plan and I fully intended to use Mila to help me play it out. Alexis had an event at school. It was one of those looooooong and only fun if you're a kid participating events. It required that onlookers sit around and wait for a long time.

So I took Mila with me.

That seems like a special brand of bad choice, but it is not. Mila is AWESOME and she entertains me at boring events. When she's busy making situations complicated, I'm busy chasing her around and doing what I can to tame her. That's way more fun than just sitting around with nothing to do except twitch because fifth graders are loud. Basically, Mila has a history of providing me with an excuse to do anything other than sit around and wait for Alexis. It's magical.

So we sat down at this event and started the very long wait. Somehow Mila managed to con her way into holding my phone and one thing led to another. Suddenly, she was happily playing a dumb game where she brushes a cat's teeth and punches it in the face.

And she played.

And she played.

And she played.

Quietly. Peacefully. Calmly. I'm not supposed to be able to use those three words to describe Mila, you guys. She has a reputation to maintain and SHE FAILED. Instead of acting a fool, the kid was an angel.

Of all the times for her to prove me wrong by behaving. I had to sit and watch the entire event because Mila was so well-behaved.




She's the Baby

On one hand, there is the tween. She is in such a hurry to grow up. As if it isn't happening quickly enough all on its own, Alexis is constantly looking for ways to be more grown up faster. Makeup, clothes, carefully planning every day of the rest of her life ... you name it. She's trying to push her way to adulthood right now.

It's ridiculous, really. She doesn't need to try to push anything because I already bought her a shirt in the grown-up section the other day. Meh baby can wear adult clothes now.

On the other hand, there's Mila. Mila is right smack in the middle of the space between baby and kid. I prefer to call it "toddler," but when the moment is right, we throw "big kid" in there. Mostly it's meant as motivation. "You're a big kid now, so you don't need diapers" and such.

"Are you ready to be a big girl?"

"Big girls put their shoes away."

"You're too big for that."

Admittedly, we say it all. It's truly done with the best of intents, but Mila doesn't care. Mila is all NOOOOPE. Nopity nope nope.

"I not big. I a baby," she will reply. EVERY DAMN TIME.

It doesn't matter what it is, Mila will pout and make herself as small as possible while she carefully tells you that you're as wrong as wrong can be. She's a baby. Don't forget it.

Which takes us to this evening. Alexis has a bag of York Peppermint Patties in the pantry. They are her most favorite candy in the whole wide world and she's hoarding that bag so that she can enjoy one little piece at a time for months. She would like to be hoarding that bag in her bedroom, but I have a strict "no food in the carpeted parts of the house" rule. Alas.

Mila somehow found out about the bag of candy. One thing led to another and suddenly her little "baby" butt was climbing the shelves so she could cozy up by the ceiling and snack the day away. I caught her before she could get as far as she needed to, though.

"Mila, get down," I said.

She refused, of course.

We went back and forth for a few minutes before she said, "Baby needs candy," and continued climbing. For some reason, I assumed she meant that her doll, who is named "Baby."

"I'll find a snack for Baby. You get down," I said.

"Nooooo! I the baby!" she replied.

Confused yet? I was.

"Babies don't climb shelves," I told her.

"Yes, babies do climb shelves," she replied.

"Babies don't speak in complete sentences, big girl," I said as I pried her off the shelf and set her on the ground.

She, of course, melted into a puddle of whine. She threw little self to the floor and mustered up the best tantrum she could find. Which, she's had a few years of practice, so she's pretty good at it. I told her as much, but she just kept insisting that she's the baby.

The whole thing has me wondering a few things:

1. Do the girls purposely seek out ways to be different? Are they allergic to agreeing with each other? Why must one be in a hurry to grow up while the other one insists on staying little?

2. Who was the genius who coined the phrase "like taking candy from a baby" because I'm pretty sure that person was a moron who had never actually met a baby ... er, I mean toddler. Who had never actually met a toddler.



None of it is Fair

While this winter has been unnerving in its mildness, it still has been winter. The dark falls early and the fun stops earlier. It's hard to find a time to get to a playground or such when the sun sets 10 minutes after it rises. Thus, now that the days are growing longer and we've crossed the Daylight Saving Time line, Mila is a cagey little thing. She wants to spend all of the hours outdoors playing. Always.

She really doesn't care if it's cold. She just needs daylight.

That means we've been sneaking off to a playground at every possible turn, even if only for a few minutes. Today was cheer sign-up day (hooray?), so the nice wide open window for playground time was consumed with waiting in line and trying on uniforms and blah.

Poor Mila.

All she wanted to do was to go to the playground, but instead she had to sit around and wait for her sister forever. Okay, so maybe it technically wasn't forever, but it was over an hour. We finally left about twenty minutes before sundown. That's basically forever if you're two years old.

Twenty minutes. Twenty minutes of daylight is just enough daylight, right? Right.

So when we wrapped up the joy that is cheer sign-ups (::cough::), I assessed the situation and decided we should RUN to the playground. No walking, RUN. As luck would have it, there was one just across the parking lot from the cheer thing, so I threw the girls in the car and drove the 100 yards across the lot.

For what it's worth, cheer sign-ups were a slow and painful process, so there was no mass exodus. I think one family got to leave about every 20 minutes. We had the parking lot to ourselves and it was close by, so I decided to save thirteen seconds and not buckle seatbelts.

Go ahead and judge. It's the internet; that's what you do.

Done now?

GOOD, because Mila wasn't. It took mere seconds to cross the lot and Mila spent each and every one of those seconds yelling at me that she wasn't buckled. The good news about the whole thing is that I can now be certain that if I ever legitimately forget to buckle her in, she's going to flip her lid and let me know. The bad news is OMG STOP YELLING AT ME, CHILD.

I tried reasoning with her and telling her that we were going to the playground, but she was super focused. "I NEED BUCKLED!" she insisted.

"I'm not buckling you, Mila," I said as I pulled into the parking space in front of the slide. "We're at the playground."

"BUT THAT'S NOT FAIR!" she yelled.

Which, you guys. YOU GUYS. Isn't it the other kid who is supposed to be yelling at me about what's fair and not fair? And how exactly does the 2-year old already know that phrase?

Alexis is so busted.

I hope Alexis takes the time to teach Mila a little context for her handy new phrase. If she doesn't, I'm going to be forced to laugh and laugh and laugh.