Wednesday, August 9, 2017Taming the Dudebro
I think Alexis must have spent a portion of her life looking for a name for the kind of guy who is young, loud, obnoxious, probably drunk, and just generally annoying. I have plenty of names for them, but when they start going, "Duuuuude" and "Broooooo," well, Dudebro it is.
Alexis learned the term on our flight to Vegas. She mastered the art of identifying the species while we were there. A week later, a quick vacation at the beach has her earning her PhD in Dudebroism.
So ... there is a group of guys staying a few doors down from us and they definitely qualify. Alexis has complained about them plenty of times because loud. They're so loud. So very loud. She is learning to cope, fortunately.
The guys walking behind us earlier today, though. She had no coping skills that would do the trick. They were loud, they were stumbling, and they were everything that makes her want to scream, "STOP TALKING!" Which, it's hilarious. She isn't assertive enough to actually yell at a stranger. She'll make faces and practically burst with want, but she won't actually do a single thing.
There was lots of wanting as we walked down the street and one of them keep using expletives loudly and with much gusto. If his life were autocorrected, he would have "ducking" and "duck" about every three words. His vocabulary appears to be limited is what I'm saying. Which, whatever. It shouldn't matter.
It mattered to Alexis, though. I could hear her rolling her eyes as we walked down the street. He kept yelling, at one point throwing "Your momma" jokes at drivers of cars that went by. I don't know what his story was, but he was having fun, I suppose.
Alexis fumed. Silently. Because that's what she does.
Just as the Dudebro and his partners in crime finished pushing the walk button approximately 235234 times (because it said "wait" every time they pushed it and they thought that was sooooo funny), the lead Dudebro started yelling "Haaaarooooooo!" at the top of his lungs.
It was charming.
Or not.
"BE QUIET!" Mila yelled at the top of her lungs. "YOU'RE NOT BEING NICE!" she finished.
So, we now know which sister will actually speak up when a situation gets out of control. Whodathunkit?
World Champion Nap Taker
Each of the girls has had their thing that made them a magical little toddler. For Alexis, it was the way she couldn't stand to break rules. I could have legit not bothered to keep an eye on her. Ever. I could have just occasionally shouted out, "Are you supposed to be doing that?" and she would have self-policed her every move just fine.
Not Mila, man. If I take an eye off of her, she will find her way to Florida before I turn back around. She'll probably hitchhike a ride from a Harley driver, even.
But Mila. Miss Mila wins when it comes to sleep. She has always slept better than her sister at night and she SO crushes Alexis at the nap thing. Alexis gave up naps long before her third birthday. Mila would like to still have a solid two hour sleep in the middle of every day. You can maybe shorten that to an hour, but two hours is really best.
Which, it's the best. It's magical and wonderful having a 3-year old that still worships at the nap alter.
Except, sometimes she decides she's not going to nap. She really shouldn't make that decision because BAD CHOICE, MILA.
Today was one of those days. They're rare, but they do happen. Life was just too interesting so Mila skipped her nap and then she sort of gracefully went to sleep when we went for a walk at the end of the night. I thought it was all going to be fine and work itself out, but then she woke up just as we returned from the walk and YOU GUYS. I now know why some people call an exorcist thinking that will cure their kid of evil. Mila was most certainly possessed.
The reason for her anger -- pajamas. First, I didn't have the right pajama top to go with her pajama bottoms except she was just crazypants because I did so have the right set. I didn't bother to argue the point because OBVIOUSLY that would be dumb, but then I found out what dumb really looks like.
It's your toddler screaming at you because *YOU* are wearing the wrong pajamas. I don't know why, but apparently I was supposed to wear the red sock monkey pajamas tonight except I couldn't because we're not at home and the pajamas are. I don't know about you, but I'm not the brand of crazy that drives seven hours to grab a different pair of pajamas.
Mila would.
Mila would drive seven hours to get those pajamas and she would yell the entire way there because clearly I am dumb and make terrible decisions like wearing any other pajamas.
We're going to work harder to not skip that nap for the rest of her life. It's safer for us all that way.
