Christmas Crazy in July Slash August Slash HOLY SMOKES IT'S TIME FOR SCHOOL

As the clock strikes back to school o'clock, a whole bunch of kids will be ready thanks to you all. Thanks to you all I spent over an hour loading a car up with so many things. To be precise, I loaded:

• 30 packs of Crayola markers
• 155 folders
• 35 pairs of scissors
• 52 binders
• 2 lunch bags
• 2 rolls of dry erase tape
• 2 packs of Sharpies
• 10 packs of pens
• 144 mechanical pencils
• 632 pencils
• 358 erasers
• 144 pencil sharpeners
• 100 notebooks
• 84 packs of crayons
• 25 packs of loose leaf paper
• 55 bottles of glue
• 135 glue sticks
• 22 packs of highlighters
• 72 pencil cases
• 12 packs of colored pencils
• 10 packs of note tabs
• 10 packs of note cards
• 34 rulers
• 72 backpacks

Did you catch that last thing? 72 backpacks. While every single thing on that list matters, that's a number that makes me smile. There are 72 good-quality backpacks headed to kids who wouldn't have them if not for you all.

Good job, you guys. Center for Victims will be able to take a little better care of their kids thanks to all of you who helped.

One Looks Different This Time

It's really no secret that One is my least favorite age of all. To hear me talk about Alexis at age One is to hear me talk about how very much I didn't like her. I loved her, definitely, but I didn't like her because:

1. One has no common sense.

2. One is very honey badger about everything.

3. One has way more energy than me.

4. Energy without common sense is a nightmare.

5. Did I mention that energy without common sense is a nightmare? Because I think that's the key right there.

Alexis started walking at 13 months and spent the next several months walking everywhere. She refused to be carried, she refused to sit in a stroller or cart, and she refused to go in the same direction as me. Going to the grocery store to purchase one item was a big production that required two hours, a bottle of booze, and some duct tape.

Parking lots were exhausting because she wanted to play in traffic.

Restaurants were exhausting because she wanted to run laps.

Everything was exhausting.

But then Two rolled around and Alexis became a pretty fantastic little person. So.

I'm not sure exactly why Mila's round of One is so much less infuriating (so far), but it is. She most certainly is a very different person, but maybe I just have really low expectations? Maybe I'm beaten into submission? Maybe I haven't slept in so long that I don't realize she's running laps through Dunkin' Donuts while the employees give me the stinkeye?

Oh, wait. That did happen. I remember it. But for as much as I remember chasing her over and over and making her sit back down over and over, I also remember not reaching the end of my sanity rope. I was exhausted, sure, but I was able to stay in the game.

(The lack of a high chair contributed mightily to the situation, but I don't really expect every public place to understand how much easier my life is when my kid is tied to the furniture.) (It defies logic, but if Mila is tied to the furniture, she's super chill and cooperative. Too bad I can't use duct tape in public.) (OR CAN I?)

So far, One with Mila includes a tolerance for the stroller, totally refusing to sit in a cart but a willingness to push a cart all over a store, a love for exploration if it's nearby, and a heavy dose of "Up, peeeeese." It's manageable.

Two is going to be super awful, isn't it?

The Lesser of Two Villians

Alexis is an honest-to-goodness real person who has a life separate from me. It's been that way for a while now, so I've had time to adapt to days when she spends her time in the company of friends instead of with me.

I'm not saying I like it, but I have found a few advantages.

So when Alexis spent all day Sunday with a friend, I set out to accomplish things that are best done without her presence. A quick run through Target was full of the challenges that come with having Mila along for the ride, but I didn't get asked, "Can we buy this?" 2422091350938  times.

BEAUTIFUL.

Even better, after a quick run through Target, I knew it was my chance to get ice cream.

Look, I love treating my Big Kid to ice cream. I do. But I also love getting to eat the flavor that I pick. For the entirety of her life, Alexis has one a fantastic job of swearing she wanted some random flavor but then complaining and stealing the flavor I ordered instead. For example, she will say she wants the Purple Dinosaur crap, but she ends up eating my White Chocolate Raspberry Truffle.

It's beyond frustrating.

That's why Mila and I HAD to get ice cream. She's too little to have opinions about flavors and such, so it was my chance to pick what I really wanted and enjoy every last drop of it.

You know where this is going, right? It's super obvious to me in retrospect.

In case it's not obvious, I wandered up to the Bruester's window, ordered my Turtle ice cream, and pondered what to get for Mila. I figured the big nuts in Turtle probably weren't a great idea for her, so she got strawberry.

She loves strawberry EVERYTHING. She especially loves strawberry ice cream.

Once I had two cones in hand, I plopped Mila on top of a table and sat in front of her holding her cone. Within seconds, there was ice cream covering every surface, but she was happily attacking her strawberry ice cream.

And then she spotted my ice cream.

The first time she lunged towards my cone, I blocked her with her own cone. The best ice cream is the ice cream that is nearest to your face. Mila agrees with that theory. Thus, she was distracted and took a bite out of her own cone. But, then she remembered. Then she remembered that I had something that looked delightful. She lunged again. I blocked her with her own cone again. Lather, rinse, repeat.

That worked for a few minutes.

But then it stopped working.

In a flash, it happened. I didn't know what was happening, it just was. A smile and a giggle and suddenly the ice cream was gone.

ALL OF IT.

Mila ate both cones.

Note to self: it's better to treat the kid who wants to trade ice cream than it is to treat the kid who steals all of the ice cream.