Today my children tested me. It’s starting to feel like a regular occurrence. I assume they plotted against me last night. I can imagine how it went down. Emma said, “Hey Soph, let’s whine all day tomorrow. And at mealtime be sure to goof around a lot so she inevitably cracks and feeds us both. It’s so much more fun and time consuming that feeding ourselves. Even if we are almost 3 and almost 5 years old. It’s fun. One more thing – when mom says “Time to go!” just make sure you ignore her and continue doing whatever it is you are doing. Especially if it is playing with other kids when she is rushing to try and get us to gymnastics on time. If we work hard I know we can break her.” Sophie’s reply, “Ok Emma.”
They haven’t broken me yet but I feel it coming like the oddly cool winds that whip up right before a massive summer thunder storm. Oh it’s rolling in alright… I am outnumbered and it won’t be pretty when I can no longer threaten taking dessert away. Now they care about ice cream. Some day they will not.
The problem with kids is that after their most rebellious and maddening moments – right when you think they can’t make you any more frustrated – they will do something insanely cute and you are right back where you started from. In love and willing to do anything for them. By 7:22pm this evening I was spent. Book reading had been taken away after a handful of empty threats and we were in bed “settling down”. This is the conversation that unfolded as I lay in Emma’s bed with her. She had literally been talking non-stop since waking up at 6:45am earlier that day. She never ever runs out of things to say. I have no clue where she gets it from?!?
Emma: “Mommy, I have an idea.”
Lindley: “Emma be quiet. It’s time to settle down.”
Emma: “Just one more thing Mom.”
Lindley: “I mean it Em. I am going to leave the room.”
Emma: “No! Don’t go. I promise this is the last thing.”
Lindley: “Fine. Just say it.”
Emma: “You know that Barbie Pop Star party I have this weekend? Well could you get me a twig for it? That way I won’t have to die my hair purple. I could just wear the twig.”
(I usually ignore her in silence at this point, praying she will get tired of listening to her own voice and fall asleep. Tonight I couldn’t resist replying.)
Lindley: “You mean a wig?”
Emma: “Yes. You can just order it on the intervet.”
Lindley: “Ok Em. I will.”
This kid is more than I can handle. So cute. So small. And yet she leaves such a big footprint on my heart. She owns me.
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