Toddlers and Teens Are All the Same

Some time ago, the Toddler got the idea in her head that she is in charge of the radio in the car. If I try to listen to sports radio, she loudly voices her need to hear music. Once I turn on music, she voices her need to listen to different music. Given her choice in things, I do believe the child would listen to SexyBack by Justin Timberlake and Maneater by Nelly Furtado at least 37,492 times in a row. Oh, wait. Maybe that's how many times we've already listened to those songs. Either way, I've gotten so sick of those two songs that I've actually contemplated buying Britney's new album. I know, that's some desperate shizznet right there. (Don't worry, my dear husband will make sure I don't actually stoop to that level.)

In my fervent attempts to put an end to the recurring assault on my ears, I have decided to try something new in the car. Every day when I pick Alexis up from school, I try to engage her in some sort of conversation as we make the four minute trek to our house. I usually ask her what she did at school, who she did it with, whether or not it was fun, what she ate, and all of your basic attempts at small talk, albeit with a person who still thinks the sentence "I pooped in the potty" warrants a parade and three ring circus, even if she didn't actually perform the aforementioned task. Let's just say she's not quite yet a master conversationalist.

Some days I actually get some meaningful answers from her. For example, I do believe that today she played with Barbies and that Shelle read her a story. Last week she told me a hysterical story about Eva Dawn. I don't really know what the story was about, since I could only understand Eva's name, but Alexis sure did think it was a funny story. She literally had tears streaming down her face as she gasped to tell the story in between giggling fits.

Most days, our conversations are pretty one-sided. I ask a question, she answers yes or no. I ask another question, she rolls her eyes at me then answers yes or no. I ask a question, she sighs and then answers yes or no. I ask yet another question, she whines then answers yes or no. It has not escaped my attention that these little three to four minute conversations are just the beginning of a lifetime of her getting annoyed at me for asking too many questions. Hopefully when she's a teenager and we're back to one or two word answers (assuming, of course, that somewhere along the line she learns to actually talk to me in complete paragraphs), I'll be able to look back at these days and remember when our conversations were choppy and awkward because her vocabulary was limited, and not because she hates me.

Keeping it on the Down Low

Alexis' birthday was a day of compromise. Daddy wanted to take her to Chuck E. Cheese. I would rather play in traffic. I wanted to take her to the Children's Museum. Daddy would rather go bowling with live bombs. So we did both.

The Chuck E. Cheese portion of the festivities came with the claim that "she love, love, LOVES it there." I personally had never been, but Mr. Husband had taken the Toddler there once. Within moments of walking in, it became apparent that his idea of "she loves it" and my idea of "she's mortally afraid of it" are actually one and the same. We all already know that Elmo and Zoe at 500 feet away is worth crying about, you ought to see what she thinks about Chuck E. at 5 feet away. Let's just say my underwear have been known to give me more space than the kid right after seeing the giant rat. When Mr. Husband took off with 20 or so tokens (so he could get the Toddler a prize, you see), I came to understand who really loves Chuck E. Cheese. The birthday girl eventually warmed up to the idea of swinging and playing a tiny bit, but it came at the price of much Mommy cajoling.

Just so we're all clear on the topic, I would rather eat cardboard than that pizza. Yeah, I know, they are made of the exact same substances.

The Children's Museum, I thought, was a whole lot more fun. As in, I got to sit in a chair and Alexis got to play and play and play. She would probably still be playing if there had been any food in the place for us to eat after they locked us in. I only get locked into places that leave chocolate and popcorn sitting around for me to munch on at midnight, thankyouverymuch. Despite the lack of quality nightime munchies, I still think the Children's Museum rocks. Hard.

During the home portion of the activities, there was cake and there were presents. Alexis ate precisely none of her cake. Really, she stuck a fork in it, licked the icing off, and then gave up on it. If I were the kid of parent that got all locked into a plan, I would have been pissed about the lack of messy smash cake photos. Good thing I just go with it.

Presents were sort of a bust for the poor child. Considering that I still haven't drug out all of her Christmas presents, there really was no need to get her anything. I did let her keep Satan's doll since it was far less annoying once I found the mute button. Other than that, she got a few games that she won't care about for at least six months. They were on clearance so I figured it made sense to pay a little for them now rather than a lot for them later. In true Toddler form, the only gift she really cared about was the box of junk jewelry that I gathered on a whim as we were leaving the store. Don't take away the kids bling, she will hurt you. And don't tell her that her bling is only worth about $10 total.

Notice the complete lack of other people involved in the festivities? That's right, there was no partying with friends and family. We shall see in approximately 16 years what happens if you don't give your kid the biggest! birthday! party! ever! when they turn two. If she survives, perhaps other parents will be brave enough to follow in our compromising footsteps.

The Other Birthday Shirt

When I grow up, I want to be just like Karen. Which is why I decided to rip off her style when some crazy embroidering lady told me that three weeks was not enough advance notice to make me the world's greatest birthday t-shirt for Alexis. So I "borrowed" the design, sought out the perfect fabrics, and ironed/sewed away. It's not exactly like the one I tried to get made, but it lived up to my expectations:

Why, yes, I am proud of myself. My sewing machine hates me with the fire of a thousand suns, so it's quite an accomplishment when I actually finish a project.