She Was Born to Burn Her Bra

Children who get themselves out of bed, showered, dressed, fed, and out the door in the morning are allowed to turn on the TV for a while. Children who not only get themselves ready for the day but also their baby sister ready? Those children can turn on the TV for as long as they want in the morning. As long as Alexis catches the bus, I frankly don't care what she does when she's not helping me get moving.

She uses that free time wisely. She watches Spongebob.

I loathe that show. I don't know why, but it annoys me in a way that I've only ever experienced when we were in the Dora phase. Dora and Spongebob should run off to a remote island together. Preferably one where they'll be eaten alive by rabid monkeys and then thrown into the ocean where some sharks can tear them into shreds.

Ahem.

Of course if Alexis watches Spongebob, Mila has to watch Spongebob. Mila copies everything her big sister does because her big sister is the most amazing and fantastic big sister there is. One day, Alexis turned on Spongebob, Mila started watching, and then Alexis went to school. I was off work that day, so Mila got to keep watching television and one thing led to another and ... basically I just want to say that it's Alexis' fault. If she hadn't been watching Spongebob, Mila wouldn't have seen the show that comes on after Spongebob.

Paw Patrol.

HOOBOY has Mila fallen down the Paw Patrol wormhole. It's her most favorite show in the whole wide world right now. We've seen every episode that's available with On Demand at least 253094183 times. The good news is that it isn't as annoying as some other shows. Although, I admit I might just be saying that because Mila howls with the pups during the theme song and it's the best.

Alexis has opinions about Paw Patrol. Strong opinions.

I have spent many of my last few days listening to Alexis complain about how terrible Paw Patrol is. The storylines are fake (dogs can't turn into mermaids, you guys), the episodes are too short, and did anybody notice that for some reason there's only one girl dog? And that she wears pink?

Alexis noticed. And WOW does it make her mad. The short version of her very long rant is that the show is teaching Mila that only boys can have adventures and girls should just wear pink and be cute in their helicopter. The rant goes on and on when the show is on the television and then it continues when we're in stores because the Paw Patrol toys are buried with the boy toys. Did you know that girls should be allowed to like Paw Patrol, too? So why do they have to go to the boy toys to find the stuff? HUH? HUH? ALEXIS WANTS TO KNOW.

So, Nickelodeon, could you maybe fix that mess? Because when a 10-year old notices that your cartoon is full of sexist crap, it must be true.

The Ice Cream Moment

Alexis has approximately -235235089 ounces of patience for my need to stop "just once" on the way home from things. I say just once, it ends up being ten times, none of the stops are fun, and basically she thinks adulting is stupid.

She's right, of course.

But while she has no patience for me stopping for milk on the way home from a movie, she also thinks it's perfectly acceptable to ask me to run to the store for milk at 6:30 am on a Saturday. WHICH IT IS NOT. AT ALL. NOPE. I don't do anything at early o'clock on a Saturday.

So last week when one of those milk stops became critical, Alexis whined. And whined. And whined. I didn't much care, so I stopped anyway and drug her out of the car. There was much complaining.

And then it occurred to her that she could use the moment to her advantage. Ice cream!

She dashed through the store to pick out some ice cream, which is all it took for it to be okay that I had to dart through the store for a coupe of essentials. Twenty minutes later, we were back in the car and headed home. Another twenty minutes after that, we pulled into our driveway. I reminded Alexis to grab the ice cream and that we could grab all of the other things we had picked up the next morning.

Guess what happened!

Of course Alexis grabbed everything except the ice cream. It sat in the car all night and was discovered the next day, well after it had melted into a pile of gross.

Alexis was sad. At first she tried to turn her sad to mad by blaming me, but then I reminded her that my exact words were, "Grab the ice cream, please." It's hard to blame someone for something when they definitely told you to do it.

And then I laughed. Because COME ON. All the kid cared about in life was that ice cream, but she managed to forget it. It was a funny mistake, and I told Alexis as much.

Since then, we've adopted the phrase "ice cream moment" as our way of describing moments when either one of us do something completely dumb. It's really the most perfect way of admitting you did something that makes no sense, except that strangers have no idea what we're talking about. So, uh, to the Target cashier who thought we were insane earlier tonight? We are, but I swear it all made sense.

You just have to know about the ice cream moment.

Mere Mortal

One of my favorite parts of parenting tiny humans is that they genuinely think you're the most amazing being there is. There's nothing you can't fix, you know everything, and generally you're all that and a bag of peanuts.

And then they grow up and figure out that you're just as clueless as all of the other people on earth and WELP. Alexis was probably 8 years old the first time she muttered, "Why am I asking you?" when she realized I was totally deflecting instead of recommending how she could solve a problem.

I had a good run with that kid. It's true.

And now there's Mila. Mila, she of many opinions, has decided to rage at the sun. THE SUN. Of all the things in this universe to get mad at, she has chosen the sun. She is mad at it for existing, then she's mad at it for being in the wrong place, and then she's madder and madder at it because "THE SUN IS IN MY EYES." I'm waiting for her to scream "KILL IT WITH FIRE!" because I think she might.

And then I'd have to explain that you can't kill fire with fire and that doesn't sound like any fun.

Instead of explaining combustion to a 2-year old, I hand her a pair of sunglasses and tell her to deal. The sun is allowed to be where the sun wants to be. I tried that explanation yesterday and was told, "TURN IT OFF!" so obviously Mila totally understands my point.

Today, though, today was the day when I disappointed my 2-year old. Today Mila raged at the sun for existing, and then she raged at it because it was shining in her eyes. I handed her sunglasses and all of that, but she threw the sunglasses at me.

Mila is a thrower. It's a fact.

Then Mila straight-up demanded that I move the sun. She yelled, "MOVE THE SUN, MOMMA!" at least fifteen times. I started to just plain ignore the rant because I am a terrible human being and own that fact, but Mila wanted to rub it in some more. "MOVE IT. MOVE IT. MOVE IT."

And then she fell silent. She thought for a moment then quietly, in an almost whisper, added, "Please. Momma please move it."

And I couldn't.

The child used her manners exactly as I have told her to do a million times and I couldn't move the sun so that it wouldn't shine in her eyes.

Two years. It took me two years for Mila to figure out I'm not all powerful.