Never Piss Off a Princess…

Siblings are fascinating creatures.  Never having any myself, I only got to experience them secondhand through tales of friends who had them.  So now that we have a set of our own, I find it interesting to see things first hand. 

As I have said before, the kids have a love/hate relationship.  They are constantly showing concern about where the other one is and what the other one is doing when they are not together.  At first I think it was genuine concern but now I suspect it is more for plotting purposes.

Recently Miss A has been demanding more and more of her big brother, much to his dismay.  Her new thing is wanting to sit in his car seat.  I am partly to blame.  One afternoon I took her to the store (without her brother) and let her sit in his seat.  It was a whole new world on that side of the van and she liked it!  Depending on the day/moment, Mr. D was ok with this new “let’s switch seats” thing, allowing her to sit in his seat while he checked out the view from hers. 

This, however, started a new thing to squabble about.  Mornings are not the best time for any of us, particularly during the week.  People are cranky, tired, and generally disagreeable first thing in the morning at our house.  Perkiness is NOT ALLOWED.  As it happened, last Tuesday, we were in the process of getting it together to go to the van.  D was not cooperating, complaining about his shoes, his shirt, and his blanket…whatever he could think of to delay the process of heading to the van.  While he was moping about, I was herding A towards the garage.  “Time to go to the car” I said.  Smiling a huge smile, she scampered quickly to the door, announcing “I sit in Day-dee’s seat”.  I am not sure if he heard her, but I did hear the hubby say to him…”Alivia is going to sit in your seat.”

That was all it took…he was out of his chair, out the door, down the stairs over to the van before we could blink.  As it happened, A was in the process of climbing into his car seat.  Hell no….the boy reached up and grabbed a huge hunk of flesh, pinching hard as he used her for a step stool into his seat.  Loud wails emanated from her tiny squashed form as her big brother sat proudly in his seat, demanding that someone buckle him in NOW.  He didn’t care about the scolding he received for being mean to his sister, just sat there smiling smugly.  “Ok, just for that, Alivia is sitting in your seat on the way home tonight.”  I told him.  He frowned but soon settled back into his seat.

That evening I went to get the kids from day care.  Sure that I had forgotten my threat, D headed for his side of the van. 
“NO,” I said, “Remember, you were mean to Alivia so she gets to sit in your seat.”    This was met with many frowns and whines from D and lots of smiles from A.

To make matters worse, we stopped at the store first.  Thinking that this meant he could sit in his seat now, D was a little taken back when I explained that NO, she was going to sit in his seat until we got home….no matter how many times we stopped. 

Now during all this time, Alivia was quietly enjoying her new spot.  Just about the time I figured she had forgotten about this morning’s injustice, she looked over at her big brother, smiled a huge smile, and announced with great glee “I have to go potty!”  We had just left town and were looking at another 15 minutes on the road….not much to an adult but to a small person that can be a BIG difference.

“You have to wait until we get home, sweetie.” I responded.

A few minutes passed by…..

“I have to go pee!” she squealed again.

“Wait until we get home…” I said.

“I pee in Day-dee’s chair!” She sang out.

The look on his face was priceless….

“NO WIBIA!!!” he screamed…”Mommy, Wibia wants to pee in my seat!”

“I go potty in Day-Dee’s Seat!” she sang out again, smiling the whole time.

“NO WIBIA!!!”

I am happy to say that she did NOT pee in his seat.   I am also happy to say that “Day-dee” now has a new understanding when it comes to his sister….Never piss off a princess…unless you want the princess to piss in your seat….

Yes You Are a Boy….

Ah the joys of little boys….

It was not long after he arrived that Mr D discovered he had an extra appendage, shall we say.  And like most boys (big and small) he found it to be a fascinating ‘toy’.  My first reaction was one of shock and dismay.  “He can’t be doing that yet!” I said to the hubby, who found the whole thing rather amusing.  “Sure he can, it feels nice.” Was his less than sympathetic response.  Eventually I came to grips (no pun intended)with the situation and just let him do what he was going to do.

About a year ago, he discovered that it had a name.  “What’s that?” he asked the hubby.    Without missing a beat he replied “It’s a  penis.”  “Peeenis” D whispered in awe….  Again, neither of us really paid any attention.  Then it started….

“Do you have a penis, Mommy?”   “No.”

“Does Wibia have a penis, Mommy?”  “No”

“Does Daddy have a penis, Mommy?” “Yes”

We carefully explained to him that boys had one and girls did not.  (Yeah – we were kind of vague on what girls have – I don’t think I am ready for that conversation or how he will end up saying it!)  For some reason this seemed to solidify things for him and instead of asking if everyone had a penis he would ask if they were a boy or a girl.  Periodically the penis question would pop up (again, no pun intended), but for the most part he seemed to leave it alone.

Of course that still didn’t mean that he wasn’t occasionally using the word.  One afternoon on our weekly trip to Wal-Mart, both kids piped up that they needed to use the potty.  As we like the idea of them being potty trained we both dutifully took a child and headed to the restrooms.

A and I finished quickly enough and were waiting for the boys.  Pretty soon they appear, and I notice the hubby has a strange smirk on his face, like he is trying hard not to laugh.  We head off to battle various Wal-Mart Demons, and I forgot about the whole thing until we hit the juice aisle.  At this point the hubby can no longer contain himself and begins giggling.  “What?” I asked, slightly annoyed that he was finding the juice aisle soooo amusing.

He then explains that while D was going bathroom, the hubby decided to go too.  Apparently D noticed this and piped up with “Daddy, you have a BIIIIG penis!” right about the time someone walked into the bathroom.  My husband was torn between being flattered and horrified…said he kept waiting for someone to call the cops on him.  I asked him what he said to D.  He said he did not have the heart to tell the little guy that it was pretty normal, especially since D seemed so impressed.  (I managed not to snort too much.)

Of course this gave us all a big chuckle and life went on pretty much as normal.  Last month D realized he had a birthday coming up.  For days he has mentioned “My birthday is coming” and how he wanted a Mickey Mouse cake.  Knowing full well that this would change, we just nodded and explained yes, his birthday was coming and yes, he could have a cake.  Last week he was still going on about a Mickey Mouse cake, so I dutifully borrowed a cake pan from a girl at work.  Saturday, was beautiful out so we took the kids to a park to let them run amuck.  On the way home, D started babbling on and on again about his birthday. 

“I have a birthday coming up!” 

“Yes you do,” said daddy.

“I get a cake and presents on my birthday!”

“Yes you do,” said daddy.

“What do you want for your birthday?” Daddy asked.

“I want Angry birds, Mikey Mouse, Spiderman, Superman, and a penis cake!”

Silence filled the van.  “What did he say?” whispered the hubby.  “You heard it…he wants a penis cake.” I whispered back.

Anyone got a cake pan in the shape of a penis I can borrow?

Tomorrow...

March 10, 2014

As I sit here with a cat by my side, two small people are snoozing peacefully in the bedrooms down the hall.  Over three years ago the first small person arrived, all smiles and wonder.  5 months later, the second small person arrived…so tiny that even our little cat outweighed her.

Over three years of endless moments anywhere from overwhelming joy to almost unbearable frustration.  Over three years of worry, anger, happiness, concern, laughter, and what the hell did we do?  Over three years of constant fear that somehow, these wondrous small people would suddenly leave us without warning.  Over three years of wiping little faces, holding little hands, soothing little fears, comforting little owies and snuggling little bodies.  Over three years of sitting up late nights, trips to the emergency room, making sure everyone was fed, clothed, and comfortable.

Tomorrow, this all ends…

Tomorrow we head into court to officially adopt these two small people.  After years of postponements, rescheduled hearings, new goals, second, third and fourth chances…we finally get to call them our own.

For those of you who have followed along on this journey, it comes as a relief.  For us, it comes as miracle.  For the small people, well, I don’t know what it means to them.  Probably nothing right now but one day it will mean something….hopefully something good.

I don’t have anything witty or clever to say…I don’t have any ‘words of wisdom’ or deeply meaningful fact of life to pass on to others.

All I can say, is that tomorrow, we will officially become the parents of two small people.  Tomorrow we will officially have a son.  Tomorrow we will officially have a daughter.

So, as I sit here with a cat by my side, two small people are snoozing peacefully in the bedrooms down the hall.  They have no idea what they have done to our lives.  They have no idea how much they have changed us.  They have no idea that tomorrow will change their lives and ours forever.  All they know is that they have fuzzy animals to play with, grandparents who adore them and a mommy and a daddy who love them.

I think tomorrow will turn out to be a pretty good day….