Subscribe
Search

Thursday
Sep122019

If Only I Were That Nice

Mila is most definitely at that age where she says something hilarious daily and I try my best to remember it for more than two seconds, which is hard because then she goes and says something else hilarious and I get distracted. Today's string of hilarity started with this gem, "I was really good at school today, so I guess I better pick a toy out of the closet when we get home."

OH BOY.

She's talking about the Christmas Crazy closet. There is a giant walk-in closet in our house that gets filled with toys year round, and then gets cleared out for Christmas Crazy. It's especially full this year because of a super awesome person who donated a nice chunk after Christmas last year, and Mila is OBSESSED. She wants to know every detail about every toy in there, but I won't even let her open the door. So she keeps making up reasons why she desperately needs to go digging.

It's not going to work.

Which leads us to the other half of our conversation. After Mila got done using her Super Duper Passive Aggressive Skills to try to pry her way into the toy closet, I went all in on shutting her down. There was no doubt that nobody is going to be going in that closet anytime soon and NOPE. Back off, Mila. Clearly she understood my message because a few minutes later, she said, "Ask me how school was today."

I took the bait. "How was school today?"

"It was okay. We learned a lot," she continued.

"What did you learn?" I asked. Hook, line, and sinker ... I fell for her little trap.

"Today we learned that moms are supposed to be really nice to kindergarteners and tell them 'yes' when we ask for things," she said.

You can imagine how I responded to that one. If your imagination includes a lot of laughter and OH HELL NO, you're spot on.

And then Mila added a little detail that you better believe I'm going to document because I am pulling this blog post out in about 25-30 years and laughing my butt off right in Mila's adult face. Miss Mila responded to my pile of nope by saying, "When I'm an adult, I'm going to let my kids have whatever they want like a good mom."

Enjoy that, Mila. I'm sure it will work out just fine.

Wednesday
Sep112019

The Rules

Mila is enrolled in a dance class again this year. Dance isn't a thing I think she would have found on her own, but she has that big sister constantly influencing her. She wants to be like her sister. It's a thing.

But not EXACTLY like her sister.

At age 5, Alexis already knew ballet was her favorite. She has since had lyrical and modern creep into her life, but one form of dance that is not her speed is hip hop. It's not ... formulaic enough for her. Let's go with "formulaic." Alexis excels at precision and flawless technique and having a "proper" way to do things. Hip hop offers NONE of that so basically she ends up looking like a ballerina trying to twerk. She looks like it because that's exactly what she is. A ballerina trying to twerk.

(Fun aside: At a hip hop class with a guest teacher, she actually got WAY better and loosened up a ton, but only because the guest teacher stopped directly in front of her, did an awkward pirroute, and then said, "THIS IS NOT A BALLET RECITAL, PRINCESS." It was exactly the right thing to get Alexis to loosen up. She a more than passable hip hop dance now because of that teacher, though we all know hip hop is never going to be her favorite.)

So hip hop is not Alexis' thing, but she's required to take it for her dance program, so she trudges through.

Mila picked a hip hop class for this year. I let her pick between all of the classes for kids her age, so she picked hip hop over ballet, tap, and all sorts of things. It was genuinely what she wanted and she went into it with full information.

Some of that "full information" included a thorough description of the proper dance attire. Both Alexis and I explained that hip hop means shorts and a shirt along with some black tennis shoes. Mila agreed that this was acceptable.

AND YET.

Mila had her first hip hop class this week. Alexis went along for the ride because she can't let her little sister have the dance spotlight for a single solitary second. Alexis also wanted to dress her little sister for class, but Mila refused. REFUSED. Mila decided she was wearing a glittery leotard.

Alexis' brain broke. She tried SO hard to explain that hip hop requires shorts and such, but Mila was all, "Whatever." The girls fell into an all-out fight over the whole thing. The fight can be boiled down to Alexis yelling, "YOU HAVE TO FOLLOW THE RULES!" and Mila yelling back, "OH, YEAH? WATCH ME NOT FOLLOW THE RULES."

Legitimately, Alexis could not comprehend how Mila could be willing to walk into a class dressed differently from everyone else. Mila couldn't comprehend why Alexis cared what she wore because Mila wears what Mila wants to wear. As the parent just trying to get a moment's peace, it was frustrating as all get out. And yet, it was also the funniest thing ever because LOLZ AT THEM ARGUING ABOUT THE RULES.

They're going to spend their entire lives not understanding why the other one doesn't respect rules in the same way. It's going to be SO fun to watch. For me. And only for me.

Tuesday
Sep102019

"Challenging," Indeed

Alexis has fallen all the way down the dance rabbit hole. I mean, we're "I drive an hour to a private lesson" level of crazy at this point, so whatever. She's happy and doing exactly what she wants to do, so I will suffer through a FREAKIN 300 MESSAGE LONG GROUP CHAT ABOUT A HOTEL RESERVATION NEXT MARCH.

Ahem.

I said "suffer through." I didn't say I would do it without whining.

ANYWAY. Now that she's riding the Crazy Train up and down the tracks, she has fun things to do like adopt a "little sister" for competition season. It's a very mundane thing that her dance studio does. The big girls on the competitive team get assigned to a little girl and are their "helper" for the season. We skipped being on the little girl side of the equation because I'm not THAT nuts (WHY DO PEOPLE SPEND THOUSANDS FOR THEIR VERY SMALL CHILD TO DANCE WHYYYYYYYYY I AM SO CONFUSED), but being on the Big Sister side of it seems to make Alexis happy.

The whole assignment thing happened over the weekend at our annual "Back to sucking your pockets dry" party at the dance studio. I think they call it "Back to dance" but we know what's really happening. So a little girl drew Alexis' name and together the two of them ran off to get to know each other.

Mila saw it happen. Families are invited to the "Back to sucking your pockets dry" party so Mila was watching everything as it happened. A little girl named Samantha was assigned to Alexis and off they ran to talk.

Possibly related: I now know what it looks like when raging waves of bright green jealousy shoot out of a 5-year old at light speed.

They are definitely related issues. Mila screeched, "But I'm the little sister!" and started bawling for her big sister.

She.

Was.

Livid.

And hurt.

And all kinds of sad. "I'm the only little sister!" she wailed at one point. She even broke free of my grasp, hunted down Alexis, and climbed her like she's a tree or something. Mila did everything she could to lay claim to her sister, including glaring at poor Samantha (who is probably 7 or 8 years old and has clearly never been the object of someone's disdain before - SORRY SAMANTHA). She cried. She screamed. She generally was a giant jealous jerk, to the point that I made her leave. For real, Alexis stayed at her dance party and Mila was escorted off the premises because she could not find her chill. Not even a giant pile of cookies could make her forget just how jealous she was that her sister had a "little sister."

We've been talking about the whole scene for the past few days now. Mila is still working on processing what happened and even though we've explained that there is only one REAL little sister, she's still mad. So mad. After we talked about it for another half hour today on the way home from, you guessed it, dance class, Mila very seriously looked up at me and flatly said, "That was a really challenging day for me."

WELP.