Bathroom Snobbery

There was a night in the not-too-distant past when Mila laid her head on the pillow at night and fell asleep as a certifiable Bathroom Tourist. There wasn’t a single bathroom in all of Western PA that she hadn’t visited because every three minutes she found an excuse to go on tour.

The next morning, though, she woke up a certifiable Bathroom Snob. I don’t know why she changed her mind about seeing EVERY bathroom; I just know she did. Suddenly, she refused to go into any bathrooms that weren’t at home. Even then she was picky – upstairs was out of the question and she would happily march her little butt downstairs for the superior potty.

She totally and completely stopped being willing to go in public. It was literally an overnight transition and one that happened without any good reason. She didn’t get traumatized by an automatic flusher or anything like that. She just plain changed her mind. She never wants to see another public restroom ever again, thank you very much.

Needless to say, that leads to some interesting situations. Mostly it’s fine because she who wants to hold it can hold it. I’m not going to fight about it, mostly because I’m in awe. I can’t hold it three minutes and there she is with her tiny little bladder waiting an hour. It’s impressive.

But sometimes we're out and she clearly needs to go. When that happens, I do fight with her because of course I do. This past weekend we had a doozy of a fight while visiting the library in Oakland. She swore she didn't need to go, we left, and then while we were visiting Heaven on Earth (aka Wafflelonia) she was all, "I need to go potty!" So, fine. We went back to the library.

She promptly refused to admit she needed to go.

WHATEVER.

So we left again. It was about 4:55 when we walked out the door, which was good because the library closed at 5:00.

GUESS WHAT HAPPENED. GO AHEAD.

At 5:01 on the dot, the Bathroom Snob started whining and demanding to go back to the library. I believe her exact words were, "I WANT TO GO POTTY AT THE LIBRARY!" She managed to scream that phrase at the top of her lungs for an entire hour because the library was closed. Alexis and I tried substituting, but that went over about as well as substituting a salad for ice cream does.

There was a lot of yelling.

And now about half of Pittsburgh has heard a 3-year old screaming about wanting to potty at the library. If you are one of those people, now you know. I'm sure you were confused, so I figured it was worth explaining.

Mila, This is Mila

This is going to be one of those stories that could be told in once sentence, but I'm going to streeeeeeeeeetch it out because I want to put it in this space so I remember. Thus, bear with me as I use too many words to explain that Mila has an invisible friend named Mila, okay?

As I over-complicate a simple thing, let me just add that I over-complicated Mila's name when she was born. Knowingly. She's Mila, pronounced with a long "i", and yes I know it's spelled wrong. It probably should be Myla, but REASONS, OKAY? That means that forever and ever, Mila is going to hear her name mispronounced. No matter what she does, all her life people are going to assume a long "e". Meeeeela, when it should be m-eye-la.

She'll live. I'll make sure to tell her to send me the therapy bill for talking through it when she's older because, again, I'm accepting full responsibility. It was definitely my choice.

This name pronounced wrong thing has already started in her life. Except, I didn't know it had started because HOW? I would think daycare people would get it right, but it turns out that there are some who don't. There are also some friends' parents who don't, apparently. What's I'm saying is that despite the fact that Mila lives in a largely auditory world and doesn't write her name on things all that often yet, somehow grown-ups have been screwing it up.

I know this because Mila recently said to me, "I'm Mila (long i) and this is my friend Mila (long e)." She was referring to her invisible friend who sometimes hangs out with us. It turns out that while Mila (long i) is aware that Mila (long e) isn't actually real, she doesn't think some adults realize that. Because they talk to her. Because who else would they be talking to when they're talking to Mila (long e)?

I don't know how long Mila (long i) will continue with this stunt where she assumes people are talking to someone else when they pronounce her name incorrectly, but I hope it's FOREVER. It really is a very effective way of dealing with life.

For the Birds

To be clear, this kid can burp with more gusto than a grown man with a beer gut the size of Texas.

Yes, really. She's very fortunate to have been born in the time that she was born because the whole concept of traditional "ladylike" behaviors would be completely lost on her. She has no chill, no ability to tone it down, and she has no qualms about doing life on her own terms. If she needs to burp, by golly she's going to burp. Loudly. And with a giggle because burping is funny, you guys.

But, here's the thing. Mila calls burping, "birding." As in, she will proudly declare, "I'm going to bird!" and then let out a hefty belch. I didn't really pay attention to the mis-pronunciation because she's three years old and all that. She has LOTS of words that she pronounces aweseomely. It just didn't dawn on me that she meant exactly what she said ...

I caught on recently when Miss Mila wasn't feeling her best. She had an upset tummy which led to all of the worst things. She will happily tell you the story about how she got sick just before she was to the toilet, slipped in her own mess, and landed on her bum. Apparently it was a traumatizing experience because she mentions it often. Every time she mentions it, she throws in some randomness about the "bird."

One of the times that she started carrying on about the "bird," I stepped in and started asking questions. You guys, Mila is absolutely certain that there are birds living in her belly. Burps and puking and belly rumbles and all of those things can be blamed on the birds. If they try to fly? She burps. If they try to get out? Puke. The belly rumbles are the birds building their nest.

She's for real.

And yet, she still likes birds. A lot.

Which is interesting because the other kid in this house has a for real phobia of birds and always has, even though they've never moved into her belly or done anything to hurt her. Mila, on the other hand, is all, "We can be friends!" even though a bird apparently has taken up residence in her stomach.

Do you know how hard I'm going to laugh when Mila eventually starts threatening Alexis with the birds in her tummy? I CAN'T WAIT.