Terrible Ideas are Terrible

Today was Take Your Child to Work Day. Against my better judgement, I let Alexis come with me to work for the third year in a row. My office runs a program that involves keeping all of the kids entertained and away from the adults all morning, but then they make you take your kid back at lunch and the free babysitters all "SEE YA! BYE!"

I guess the "free babysitters" thing is why only 3rd grade and up is allowed. Or maybe I just haven't won the battle to get that fixed so that younger kids can join in on the VERY LOUD chaos. BUT I WILL WIN THAT BATTLE. (It used to be 5th grade and up. I've been single-handedly campaigning to bring the minimum age down each year. Slow and steady wins the war.)

It should be mentioned that while I'm all "free babysitters!" I'm one of the idiots who volunteers their time to help pull the day together. There's a planning committee and volunteers the day of the event. Basically, I had 10,000 steps before lunch, so I spent a whole lot of energy chasing kids all morning. A WHOLE LOT. Clearly I am one of the "free babysitters."

There were three important lessons that came of the whole thing:

1. I am a Product Manager. I gave one of the products I worked on to the kids to use and they were all, "This is easy!" and didn't need taught how to use it and basically I'm feeling like a winner right about now. So, bite me past Product Managers who made things more difficult than they needed to be. I TOLD YOU SO. Ahem.

2. Other peoples' kids are really super annoying. I barely like my own kids some days, but I REALLY don't like that whiny kid and this one who won't stop asking annoying questions and the ones who don't listen to any instructions and don't even get me started about the one who keeps asking for snacks. I am not a vending machine, kid. Go away.

3. I can never take Mila to Take Your Child to Work Day. While Alexis was happy to spend the afternoon in a conference room doing homework and reading, Mila would be busting down walls and making friends all over the building. I walked 10,000 steps in the morning as is, I don't need to walk another 10,000 in the afternoon trying to keep her contained. (If you think she's going to outgrow her Mila-ness, you are smoking crack. She is who she is and it is amazing and awesome and EXHAUSTING.) Also,I'm pretty sure Mila would have been the kid who turned the miniature zip line for the tiny people movers they built in one activity into an actual zip line because why wouldn't she go for a ride?

Mostly I'm writing this so I remember that I promised myself Mila would never learn about this day. When I forget that promise and take her anyway, I need to look back and see just how dumb I was.

And how very in need of a nap I was. That too.

Twinning

I'd like to point out that while I am 100% responsible for what Mila wears, I haven't had a say in what Alexis calls "clothing" in years. That was probably obvious based on the high-waisted jeans and leggings that she prefers because both of those things are AWFUL. I can't actually decide which one I like less because they're both not my idea of proper attire.

Mom jeans were meant to die in the 90s. Why they're back is beyond me. And leggings. LEGGINGS. They aren't pants!

Alexis disagrees. She's allowed and stuff.

So, I buy Mila's clothes. Alexis does whatever she wants. AND YET. There is, on any given day, a 50% chance that at least two of us match. Mila has a magical ability to color coordinate with people completely unintentionally. I know it's unintentional because she does it without seeing what the other person is wearing. I mean, she did this over the weekend.

I don't know how both girls ended up wearing yellow and navy, but even wilder is that I WAS WEARING IT TOO.  I forgot to jump in a photo with them so you'll have to take my word for it, but navy shirt and yellow cardigan and I totally matched them perfectly.

It's weird.

And a little creepy.

And we do it at least twice a week every single week.

Second Baseman

I am becoming increasingly annoyed that Alexis was never interested in playing t-ball. She was given the choice, but even as a preschooler, her heart was dedicated to dance and cheer. If I had known then what I know now, I would have forced her to play because OMG ADORABLE.

It doesn't matter if the kid is into the t-ball. Even when they think it's the best sport on earth, they still are terrible, so "enjoyment" is pretty irrelevant. I mean, they don't even pay attention to what's happening. IT'S SO GREAT.

Seriously, Mila's t-ball game/practice/whatever-it-is-when-4-year-olds-play is the greatest hour of my week every single week. She's super cute in her little t-shirt and hat, but she's even cuter when she's not paying any attention while standing in the field. To best illustrate the point, here are ten things Mila has done when she was supposed to be playing t-ball:

1. Talking. A lot. Her best friend is on the same team, so they share a base when they're in the field and they spend the entire time gossiping about whatever it is that 4-year olds gossip about.

2. Flossing. As in the dance. I don't know what made her decide it was a good idea, but she spent a solid ten minutes teaching her friend how to do it a few weeks ago.

3. Picking her nose. I'm so ... proud.

4. Writing her name in the dirt with her foot. She nearly always spells it wrong.

5. Counting clouds. Loudly.

6. Singing Old McDonald at the top of her lungs. She did that one on a day when the weather was gross and they had to play indoors in a gymnasium, so the singing echoed loudly and you could hear it from REALLY far away.

7. Throwing her glove in the air and trying to catch it on her head like a hat.

8. Facing the wrong way. I don't know why her back is so often towards home plate, but when she gets smacked in the back of the head with a ball, we'll be able to explain it.

9. Telling everyone which position she's playing. As in, she walks over to one of her teammates, says, "I'm at second base!" and then walks back to her base before moving onto someone else. She has ran out to the out field to announce her position.

10. Waving at me and yelling, "I love you, mommy!" She probably will stop doing that by the time she starts high school, so I'm enjoying it the most.