Who’s the Leader of the Club That’s Made for You and Me…

A co-worker sent home some pull-ups that her daughter had outgrown for Miss Alivia a few weeks ago.   Miss A wears big girl panties for the most part, but still partakes in a pull up for nap and bed time.  Our current theme has been Dora the Explorer for some time, mainly because mommy has deemed them to be absorbent enough to withstand an evening with that wondrous thing known as the never ending toddler bladder.  (How the hell can someone so small pee enough to fill half dozen lakes is beyond me).

At any rate, the new pull-ups are Disney themed.  Each one has the face of Minnie Mouse, Ariel (The Little Mermaid) and Sully (from Monster’s Inc. – go figure that one out).  Since I had just opened a new box of Dora, I figured I would put these back until we had gone through the current run.

I suppose I should mention that Alivia had been going through a Princess stage….if it had ANYTHING to do with Princesses, then she was all about it.  We had gone through the basics, Cinderella, Belle, Aurora, and had recently become interested in the newest princes, Sophia the First.  I should also mention that Davian had recently become enamored with the Mickey Mouse Clubhouse so a Minnie Mouse attachment was on the rise as well.  I had failed to notice just how much so….

The other evening, it was getting late, so I hurried the kids into the bathtub, scrubbed them down and then set them loose while I went to gather the requisite pj’s and pull ups.

Davian was quick to toss on his Diego pull up and Superman pajama’s…complete with detachable cape.  After the required ‘you can’t get me’ chase, I managed to snag Alivia and begin the pajama routine.

First thing she spotted was the Minnie Mouse on the pull up. 

“Minnie Mouse?” she squealed.

“Minnie Mouse” I replied.

There was a long discussion about Minnie Mouse on her pull up between Alivia and Davian.  I should have taken note….

The kids fell asleep on the couches in the living room while I was straightening things up and getting stuff ready for morning.  Finally I carried Davian to his bed, and was headed back for Alivia when the dogs decided they REALLY needed to go out one last time.  As I hooked up leashes, I noticed that a tiny pair of eyes were peering at me from the couch. 

“I’ll be right back – stay put” I told her as I took the dogs into the front yard for a quick potty break.  Back inside, I told Alivia to stay put again while I put on my own pajamas.  When I returned she said she wanted to go potty.  I went and grabbed a new pull up, just in case, while she headed off to the bathroom.  Sure enough, Minnie was wet.

“No wanna take my Minnie off” she muttered when I moved to remove the wet pull up.

“Minnie is wet honey.  Here’s a dry pull up” I said, foolishly thinking that this was a reasonable request.

“No want pull up – want Minnie.”  She set her little jaw in that ‘don’t mess with me woman’ look.

“Look – it has a princess on it – it has Ariel” I tried to reason with her.

Even half asleep, she refused to budge.  “No want princess…want Minnie!”

As it was late, I decided to give in and went off to sort through the pull ups, locating another Minnie.  After inspecting it carefully, she agreed to the new pull up. Pajama bottoms were put on, Ninnie the blanket was procured, and we settled back in on the couch again. 

Normally she will go right back to sleep but as luck would have it the hubby came home 15 minutes later.  This prompted an ‘it must be time to get up’ mode of action.  After some convincing, we hauled her off to our bed to see if she would fall asleep.  Nope….after some scrunching around, she announced she had to go potty again.  By now Minnie was wet again.

This time I managed to sneak the Ariel pull up on her, as the bathroom was dark and she didn’t have time to inspect the new pull up.  Still awake, I left her to the hubby’s tender care while I crawled back to bed. 

Morning came.  Davian wandered out and we began the morning ritual of ‘get out of your jammies, go potty, let’s get dressed, etc.’ routine.  While I was finishing up getting ready myself, Alivia wandered out and announced she was wet…

I stripped her down and presented the day’s outfit for inspection.  Note – I very carefully made sure that her big girl panties had Minnie Mouse on them.  Note – I very carefully made sure that she did not get a chance to see that the pull up did NOT have Minnie Mouse on them.

“Let’s get dressed” I chirped.

Frown.

“Want Minnie Mouse.”

“Look” cried an over cheerful mommy.  “Minnie Mouse is on your panties!”

Frown.

“No want panties.  Want Minnie Mouse.”

“But Minnie is on your panties.” Tried an overly cheerful daddy.

Frown.

In the end she wore yet another Minnie Mouse pull up.

At work I reported that the pull ups had caused issues.  I then explained what had happened.

“You will have to get her some Minnie Mouse panties” my co-worker said.

“Uh - she has Minnie Mouse undies. I tried for 15 min to get her to put them on.” I explained.

I then went on to list exactly what she HAD in the way of Minnie Mouse….Minnie undies, Minnie tennies, Minnie t shirt - Minnie pajamas…a large stuffed Minnie, a small stuffed Minnie, Minnie books, and a Minnie dvd…not to mention a Minnie beach towel (with her name on it) and a couple Minnie cups…oh and some Minnie flip flops.

Gee….I guess I should have probably noticed the Minnie Mouse obsession that was building.  Of course now that I am aware of it, she will probably switch to something else….like Mythbusters…

(Note - there is a pair of Minnie Mouse panties on the floor next to her)

Double Your Something….

Two kids means double your fun, double your pleasure, and double your consumption of aspirin/Tylenol/Advil/Prozac…whatever your choice (or whatever you have on hand at the time). 

Case in point:

Exhibit 1:  The other day the now 4 year old asks to take his ‘futer’ to bed with him.  Mommy says “no-you stayed up too late last night with it so no futer tonight.”
This apparently does not sit well with the now 4 year old so when mommy is occupied elsewhere, he turns to daddy and asks to take his ‘futer’ to bed with him.  Daddy, who mistakenly thinks he is being clever, asks “what did mommy say?”  To which the now 4 year old says “Mommy said yes!” and flashes that oh-so-innocent smile.  (luckily mommy overheard the conversation and the result was that the now 4 year old did NOT go to bed with his ‘futer’ AND had to listen to a lecture on the evils of trying to outsmart mommy and daddy by saying one said Yes.)

Exhibit 2:  The now 4 year old, who has endured the lecture of trying to outsmart mommy and daddy, now tells the almost 3 year old to “go get my futer off the desk”, when he knows he is not supposed to get things off the desk.  The almost 3 year old complies with the now 4 year old’s request, carefully absconding with the treasured futer and handing it over to the now 4 year old.  Mommy sees the now 4 year old with the futer.  “Did you get that off the desk?”  she asks.  “No” says the now 4 year old.  “Wibia did…Wibia is bad.  I am good.” 

Exhibit 3:  The almost 3 year old behaves like an angel for teach #1.  When teacher #1 leaves for the day, the almost 3 year old sniffs the air, smelling for fresh blood.  Sensing the inexperience of teachers #2 and #3, she plots her attack carefully, waiting for just the right moment, then she pounces.  Mommy comes to pick up the kiddos and receives reports of the almost 3 year olds evil acts upon humanity (as far as day care humanity goes).  Lectures are given, reassurances are made, and through it all, the almost 3 year old looks demurely around, the picture of innocence and sweetness.    On the way home mommy asks “are you going to be good?”  The almost 3 year old smiles a gorgeous smile and says “No.”  (At least she is honest…)

Exhibt 4:  The now 4 year old is playing quietly with his tractors, lining them up and making random tractor noises.  The almost 3 year old heads over and joins in on the play.  Happiness all around. 
Next thing you know – the now 4 year old appears in the kitchen wailing at full volume, followed by the almost 3 year old.  “What’s wrong?” asks mommy – who by now senses that nothing life threatening has occurred, at least not by her standards.  “Wibia threw my tractor down the stairs” the boy cries.  The almost 3 year old stands next to the now 4 year old, smiling proudly.  “Why?” asks mommy – who immediately regrets the question.  “I ate her cookie” responds the now 4 year old.  “Day-dee at my kook-iee” echoes the almost 3 year old.  “Go play nice” says mommy – who is just relieved that she won’t have to clean up the puke of a dog who has been fed multiple cookies by various small people.  The two troop off into the other room.  Moments later a wailing almost 3 year old appears.  “Day-dee threw ninnie (aka blanket) in the fuzzy’s room.”  The now 4 year old appears – “No I didn’t.”  A small smack-fest between the almost 3 year old and the now 4 year old ensues, followed by mommy bellowing “GO TO YOUR ROOMS NOW!!!”  Small people scatter, snuffling loudly.  For a brief moment there is quiet.  Then the sounds of doors opening and closing as small people sneak in and out of their rooms can be heard.

I swear they hold secret meetings to plan this stuff out.

I also swear they secretly own stock in Advil and Tylenol.

Faces...

Faces are unique things.  They are our ‘calling card’ so to speak.  Everyone has their own face, and no matter how much we try, each face has a difference.  Even identical twins, whose features may be exact will still have some slight difference, even if it is only the way they hold their mouth, wrinkle their nose….just something that separates them from everyone else.

For the most part, I have a knack for remembering faces of people I encounter, even briefly.  Like most people, I know the faces of those I love better than those met briefly.  I know the faces of my parents and my husband very well.  I even know the faces of various pets we have had/have.  I remember the faces of my grandparents, various aunts and uncles, although they are frozen in time to the last time I saw them. 

With the arrival of the munchkins, I had new faces to learn.  Davian came first…with his dark brown eyes peering around him in wonder.  I remember his tentative smile when he looked at me, almost as if he was saying “Hi there, can we be friends?”  I remember the look on his face when he met the hubby, pure enchantment.  It was clear that he thought “this is someone I can like.”  I also remember his look of delight when we fed him bananas and mandarin oranges, the thrill when Lucy the dog came up to snuffle him carefully, and his outburst of giggles when Mosely the cat came up and tickled him with his whiskers. 

As the weeks went on I watched his tiny face change from one of guarded wonder to open delight and fascination of the world around him.  I saw his face scrunch up in pain; his eyes widen with fear and uncertainty, and then change into expressions of relief, reassurance, and trust.  As he grew he began to mimic expressions of the hubby as well as my own. 

Alivia’s arrival was different.  Being a newborn, I got to see her tiny face and watch it grow from the beginning.  Having seen pictures of Davian as a newborn and before he came to us, it was amazing to me how much she looked like him.  A friend commented that she was basically ‘Davian in a dress’.  I found it interesting to watch to see the changes on her face begin to echo the changes of his. 

At about two, she began to evolve in her own direction.  Although the features were still the same, her expressions were more of my own.   A co-worker commented that Alivia looks like me, even though she is not my biological child.  “It’s her expressions” she declared.  And it is. 

It is funny how closely the children watch us to see how we react to things.  If we laugh at something – they laugh.  If we cry at something – they cry.  It’s even funnier to see how they adapt these things for their own use.  Alivia was taking off my shoe then putting it back on my foot.  She was very serious about the whole thing, carefully studying both the shoe and my foot, methodically working out the placement of where the shoe should go and was it firmly on my foot.  At one point she accidentally scratched my leg, causing me to say “ouch”.  She immediately stopped, placed a look of what she clearly thought was concern on her face.  “You ok mommy?” she asked, patting my leg.  A smile of relief lit up her little face when I replied that yes, I was ok.  “Ok, good” she said, patting my leg again. 

As both children grow, I carefully make a mental catalogue of their faces.  I know the two tiny scars on Davian’s face, one by his eyebrow, the other on his cheek bone.  I know the tiny freckle on Alivia’s forehead and the elvish point of one of her ears.  I know their lovey smiles, their delighted smiles, their sad faces, their upset faces, and their mad faces.  I know their sleepy looks, their excited looks, and their deliriously overjoyed looks.  These are the faces I will always remember, even when their little baby faces have moved on into more adult ones.  But I think my most favorite of faces is the first time I laid eyes on both of them…for it was those faces that let me know we were meant to be together.