Thursday
Feb042016

That Is Exactly How I Treat Mila's Friends

There's being stuck between a rock and a hard place, and then there is that moment each morning when I can't decide whether or not it's worth the risk to hit the snooze button. Ten more minutes of sleep? Is it worth the possibility that Mila might wake up in that time? I really love sleep. A lot. But I really hate trying to take a shower with a toddler standing there, staring at me as she opens and closes and opens and closes the shower curtain while yelling "HI!"

It's cold when that happens. But bed is warm. IT IS SO HARD TO DECIDE WHAT TO DO.

This morning sleep won out. It won out for a lot of valid reasons and most of them rhyme with "Mila" which is funny because the reason to not sleep also rhymes with "Mila." It's as if the same person is at the center of so many dilemmas in my life ...

Oh. Wait. She is.

ANYWAY.

I spun the roulette wheel and I lost. Spectacularly. Just as I poured shampoo out of the bottle, the Tiny Human showed up and greeted me with her breezy, "HI!" At least she wakes up happy? Maybe?

Given that I was pressured by the kid who isn't yet big enough to wipe her own butt, I rushed through my shower, but I didn't rush enough. She took off about 30 seconds before I was done. That's exactly 30 seconds too many. For as much as I could do without all the friendliness while I'm in the shower, it's worse when Mila finds ways to entertain herself.

Much worse.

Today's adventure in self-entertainment involved Mila finding a friend -- a little friend with a lot of legs. Or, at least I assume that the stink bug she befriended had all of its legs when they met. It was missing a few when she introduced me.

I tried not to judge its state of impairment. I also tried not to ask questions or think too hard about where the legs might have wound up. It's better to not know these things. Instead of judging, I looked down at Mila with her happy glowing eyes and pudgy stink bug-holding hand outstretched and said, "Oh."

"Ook!" Mila replied.

"You're disgusting," I replied.

Mila gleefully replied, "OOK!" as she tried to hand me the 4-legged stink bug.

"NO, THANK YOU!" I maaaaaybe yelled as I turned to grab a few rolls of toilet paper. Clearly the only way to fix the situation was to amputate Mila's entire arm, wrap it and the stink bug up in layers of toilet paper, and then burn them. With fire. ALL OF THE FIRE.

Mila disagreed. Vehemently. When I tried to knock the stink bug out of her hand without actually touching it, she clenched her fist, yelled "MINE!" and clutched the spectacle to her chest.

That was sort of the opposite of what I wanted to have happen.

"Can I have the stink bug, please?" I asked. Now that I'm typing that sentence, I fully realize how incredibly stupid it is, but what else was I supposed to do? Let the kid hug the stink bug to death? That couldn't possibly result in a happy ending.

Fortunately, Mila is sort of cooperative lately. She tried again to hand me the bug. EXCEPT! Except that when I tried to grab it with a wad of toilet paper instead of my bare hand, Mila lost it. She went into full-blown pissed mode. She yelled "No!" and "Here!" and all sorts of things as she tried to put the stink bug in my bare hand even while I continued to try to grab it with the toilet paper.

That went on for a while. A lot longer than I'm willing to admit.

Things took a turn for the uglier when I finally won out and flushed Mila's little 2-legged friend.  (Look, don't ask questions. Just know things happen and friends lose legs and I can't be held responsbile.)  I guess maybe you aren't supposed to flush friends down the toilet? That seemed to be what Mila was trying to scream at me.

She stayed mad all morning. Between yelling at me and sobbing and raging in all of the ways, she wandered to the toilet and pitifully cried, "Where go?"

So now I'm going to have to find out how Mila feels about burning her friends with a flamethrower. We can't just let the stink bugs live, after all.

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Wednesday
Feb032016

Different Circumstances. Different Outcome.

There's a recurring theme that I've seen time and time again, and I recently saw it stated more boldly than usual -- if your daughters fall into the princess-pink-sparkle trap, it's your fault for exposing them to it in the first place.

::sigh::

I've said how I feel about the whole gender and kids thing lots of times before, so I won't bother again, but when the article said "She wouldn't love the terrible Disney Princess universe if you hadn't shown it to her and bought into the idealism yourself," I knew I should roll my eyes, close my laptop, and never visit that particular site again.

Kids have personalities.

They have opinions.

They have them starting at birth.

There ain't a darn thing anyone could have done to stop Alexis from falling head-over-heels in love with all things Princess by the time she was two years old. I don't know how she first saw them. I don't know how she got the idea that she should pay attention to them. I know nothing except that one day she didn't seem to know Cinderella existed and the next she was begging to have all of the Cinderella things.

I still don't understand it. And that's okay. She and I don't have to like the same things. She can be awesome while dipped in glitter and pink with a crown atop her little head. I can be awesome while glaring at all of those things. It totally works.

Now with Mila, things are a bit different. While Alexis existed in a bubble with very few opportunities to discover "girl stuff," Mila is surrounded by it. She breathes in just as much glitter as I do because Alexis sneezes glitter all over the place. There's an endless supply of Princess dolls, tea party supplies, and soooooo much pink.

Mila walks right past all of it. If you open the door to the playroom, she might play with a doll, but she's more likely to start pushing around a car. She scoffs at the pile of dress-up clothes. She shoves the tea part supplies out of the way because STUFFED MONSTERS! HOORAY!

I don't know how that happens. I mean, it just is. One kid came equipped to love the Princess crap. The other one came equipped to love the Minion crap.

All of the Minion crap.

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If it's bright yellow and says "Bee-do bee-do," Mila loooooooves it. She lives it, even.

I don't know how that happened either.

Tuesday
Feb022016

Would Someone Please Show Winter To My Door?

I know I'm in the minority when I say this, BUT COME CLOSER, WINTER.

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I see the joy in throwing kids out the door without coats and telling them to play, but SNOW. I WANT SNOW.

There is joy in throwing kids out the door with coats and telling them to play with snowman and forts and snow angels and do you know how badly I want to teach Mila to make a snowball?

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You know Mila is going to go from student to master in no time when it comes to snowball fights. If there is a one year-old we can vote most likely to play dirty, it's her.

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But I can't see her play dirty if we don't have snow. We can't have snow until we have cold. It happens to be February, which is exactly when I have the patience for cold. So, please. PLEASE.

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Let's all join together and do a dance inviting winter to come visit us for a few weeks. It will kill off the bugs, give Mila a chance to enjoy some snow, and it will keep me from whining about how I neeeeeeeeed my seasons.

We all win!

Snow.

Snow.

Snow.

SNOW.