Friday, February 26, 2016Finding Awesomeness in the Oddest of Places
I've always assumed that my version of hell will be filled with touchy feely people who walk around hugging and saying weird things to each other. But no, that's just a day at a human resources conference. It turns out my actual version of hell involves a bunch of women sitting around in a circle putting makeup on their daughters.
I survived hell, you guys.
Basically, this competition dance thing involves a lot more hair and makeup that I can comprehend. From the very long and very specific list of required products to the class I attended last week because we all have to apply it in the same way, it's a lot.
Did you catch that "class to learn how to put it on" thing? THAT WAS AN ACTUAL THING. Two hours of a very nice woman (truly) telling a room filled with dance moms of varying degrees of crazy how to put eye shadow and concealer and foundation and false eyelashes on their girls. When we were done putting more makeup that seemingly possible on the girls, we learned how to make perfect ballet buns.
It was ... interesting.
All the while, I was miserable but doing my best to be a good sport because Alexis. Alexis was sooooo excited. She loved everything about the concept of getting made up. It was all sorts of new and exciting for her. She is acutely aware that she's the youngest on her team, so she's getting to do the stuff the big girls get to do without having all of the responsibility that comes with being a big girl.
That. That is her heaven.
Or so I thought.
As the makeup and hair lesson progressed, Alexis gradually became more and more excited, but then things turned. Somewhere between the fourteen layers of lipstick and the false eyelashes, she started to seem ... well ... I think it was the lipstick that turned her. I think it was the lipstick that marked the point in the game when Alexis looked at herself in a mirror and then turned and said, "I look like a clown."
Later that night, I sent Alexis a photo from the evening. It was the group photo that we took at the end of the night that showed all of the girls wearing all of the makeup. Alexis took that photo and posted it to Instagram. The caption? Makeup is overwhelming.
And with that simple sentence, the two most miserable hours of my life were suddenly worth every millisecond.
I'm Not Nice. It's True.
This is a thing that happens pretty much every night.
From those exact pajamas (Mila's current faves) to the giggling to the "Sleep. I sleepy," we play the same record on repeat night after night after night.
Yep, it's true. I possess the rare one year-old who literally asks to go to bed.
While it is very much so a dream situation, the thing is that Mila keeps trying to sneak back her bedtime. Left to her own devices, I think she'd be asking right now to go to sleep tomorrow night. She would mean it, too. She always means it. Mileage may vary, but for the most part she says she's sleepy and then she's asleep less than an hour later.
Actually, it's more like ten minutes later. I'm scared of her, though, so I am too chicken to transport her from my arms to her crib until I know she's really VERY VERY asleep. And, yeah, she still falls asleep in my arms. It's the only thing she's willing to accept, which is fine. She can go to Pitt and live at home so that she has a way to get to sleep once she's in college.
In the meantime, Mila keeps creeping up that bedtime. Tonight she started with the "I sleepy. I sleep. Nigh-nigh. I sleepy." at 7:00. That would be fine, but it's not for a whole lot of reasons. I had things that had to be done before I blissed out under a sleeping toddler. So, I stalled.
And I stalled.
I told Mila to go find a kitty.
I gave her candy.
I turned on Elmo (Sesame Street is her new favorite thing on TV).
I conned Alexis into distracting Mila.
Yet, Mila kept it up with the "I sleepy." It was a pitiful display of tiredness and I GET IT. I do. I am that tired as well, dear Mila. But I'm that tired because I will be awakened by a certain someone at 3:00 am and I will then be screwed.
Remembering that I will be summoned at NOPE o'clock made me mutter, "But I don't want to put you to bed."
Mila heard me.
"NOT NICE NOT NICE NOT NICE NOT NICE."
She told me off.
I'm going to repeat her words the next time she decides to pry my eyes open on a weekend morning so she can say "Hi."
