The Nerdy Grandma

For the first time in the history of ever, Alexis was able to go to work with me for Take Your Child to Work Day. To say that she has asked 1353243209 times every past year would be to greatly minimize her level of desperation to join me for the day. It was all a matter of me needing to work somewhere where people act like grown-ups and there would be positive things or her to learn. Which, hooray! That is a thing now!

She spent the morning attending organized activities with all of the other kids, but then had the afternoon to spend with me. Watching me. Lurking around every corner with me. She did exactly that for a two-hour meeting, but then her nerdiness got the better of her and she found herself in a test lab with engineers.

It's been several hours since she first looked through a microscope and did some other cool things. She is still talking about it. Over and over. What I'm saying is she won't shut up.

It's kind of fantastic.

Even more fantastic is what happened after I rescued the engineers from the hurricane that is Alexis. I shoved her in a conference room with a couple of other kids because I'm super nice and stuff. Seriously. I'm nice enough to let her do something that isn't watch me try to unbury myself from a mountain of emails and research.

In theory, it should worry me to put a couple of 3rd and 4th graders in a small room and close the door. In reality, we're talking about Grandma Alexis and kids whose company she enjoyed. The group of girls, the ones who had access to a laptop and the internet, spent their time doing math.

Seriously.

Long division. They practiced long division. FOR AN HOUR.

The nerd is strong with that kid.

Hi, Karma

I'm not going to lie -- part of how I survived Alexis' toddler years was to console myself with the fact that paybacks are a bitch. From the Toddler Helmet™ to the food thievery to the constant bathroom intrusions, I fully expected that karma would find its way back to her. Some day she would call me, complaining endlessly about how her own child wouldn't stay in his bed, wouldn't sleep, and insisted on screaming randomly all of the time. When that call came, I would smile. Blissful joy would fill my heart.

She has it coming.

And that is why I don't feel bad AT ALL that karma already found her.

I don't know why it is, but at different times of the day, Mila has different favorite people. Mornings are all Alexis. Mila wants Alexis and only Alexis and the rest of us can go fly a kite or something because NO. WANT LESSI.

It's fine by me. I am terrible at mornings. It's better for all of us that I am not expected to be a responsible adult until at least 10:00.

But because Mila thinks Alexis is the bestest in the am, Alexis can't get any privacy. If Mila is awake, she's Lessi Hunting. She invades the bathroom, yelling "HELLO!" and asking all sorts of questions. Alexis gets asked, "What's that?" and "Where's mommy?" and all sorts of things. Which, answering the questions doesn't really matter because all Mila wants to do is spend time with Alexis. She's making conversation.

Alexis is remarkably patient with the whole thing. Or, at least she was until a few days ago. Alexis was in the bathroom doing things that we do in bathrooms when Mila barged in. With a flourish, Mila yelled, "HELLO!"

Alexis replied, "WHAT DO I HAVE TO DO TO GET SOME PRIVACY?"

Karma, man. I just love it sometimes.

What a Girl Wants

If the sun is shining, the birds are singing, and Alexis is dancing, Mila and I are at the playground. We started going the second daylight decided to stick around past the dinner hour. We've kept it up twice per week since, weather permitting.

Mila, of course, thinks this is the greatest arrangement ever. She starts squealing, "Playground!" the second Alexis gets out of the car at the dance studio. When we get to the playground, she quickly toddles her way from the car to the slides then toddles her way to the swings then back again. Up, down, weeee! Over and over.

My current favorite thing about our playground time is that Mila has figured out that swinging is extra fun if you lean back and look up. A giant grin spreads across her face as the wind whips through her hair. It's pretty much the best.

Of course, all good things must come to an end. For the most part, if I warn Mila that this time down the slide is the last time, she cooperates. We say, "Buh-bye, slide" then go back to the car so that we can retrieve the big sister.

Yesterday, though. Hooboy.

Yesterday was a day that didn't go quite right. There was no sweet litle "buh-bye, slide" and no cooperative walk back to the car. Instead, Mila tried to run away about a zillion times before I finally drug her back to the car. I had to basically pin her down to get her seatbelt buckled, which ... so fun. Or possibly the opposite of fun.

Yes, the opposite of fun.

Through the tears and sobbing, Mila cried out for a return to the playground. She wouldn't stop and wouldn't stop and eventually I grew frustrated. It was time to make like Elsa and let it go, so I asked, "What do you want, Mila?" in the hope that the question would stump her into silence.

It worked.

For a moment, anyway.

After some quiet though, Mila found the answer she was seeking. "Want cock-corn," she said.

That's popcorn, for what it's worth. And, yes, I laugh every single time she says it because I am a mature adult. To make it even better, that dash represents a looooooong pause. It's like she instantly remembers the first half of the word, but the second half hides from her for a long 5 seconds.

There was no reason for Mila to be asking for popcorn. It's not like I had some in the car, or in my pocket, or hiding in the trunk. There was no popcorn. None. Yet, Mila was convinced that I should find some IMMEDIATELY.

She yelled "WANT COCK-CORN!" the whole way home. 20 minutes.

Let the record show, I laughed every time she said it and yet I didn't wreck the car. I think that means I deserve some popcorn.