Little Smarty Pants

I had a real "Ah-ha!" moment last night.

I have to remember that my sweet little Bean is ONLY *almost* 3.

She is such a smarty pants. I mean, I know all parents say that, but really. The kid is a little genius. She so often behaves like a typical 4 or 5 year old that sometimes (many times) I forget that she ISN'T.

Most of the time, this isn't a problem. I don't have any intention of dumbing things down for her or talking to her like I'm "supposed" to talk to a 2-year-old.

But sometimes that 2-year-old comes out and I forget that, when that happens, I need to treat her like the toddler that she is.

So last night she had a LATE night. She was up until 11pm at our WONDERFUL babysitters house. When we got there to pick her up, she had a M-E-L-T-D-O-W-N. Not a fall to the floor, scream hit and cry meltdown (I think that would have been easier!). She just started making this horrible, high-pitched whine and WOULD NOT STOP.

And, I admit, I had a Mommy of the Year moment and honestly forgot that she's only 2. I got SO irritated at her for whining and not listening and being all around unreasonable. Because, I realized later, I was expecting reasonable behavior for a 4 year old, and not for her sweet little 2 year old self.

Her breakdown was totally normal and totally acceptable and TOTALLY my fault (I mean, really, what kid needs to stay up 3 hours past her bedtime?). Luckily, my wonderful husband had his head screwed on right and didn't overreact. He pulled me back in, and as we were driving home and I was stretched in an awkward car-yoga position to hold her little foot while simultaneously trying to sing (with hand motions) Itsy-Bitsy Spider, I had my "Ah-Ha" moment.

... one I expect will be the first of many...

But where are my furry animal friends?

Some days (most days), I feel like Snow White.

Only, I don't have cute little wooden creatures singing me sweet songs.

I always thought Snow White was good ole Walt preparing me for the day when my prince would come, sweep me off my feet, and take me away to my castle.

Now, I see it for what it really was---

Walt preparing me for being a Mommy that is constantly surrounded by little people...

"...Dwarfs," if you will...

...who function in a miniature little environment (a cottage?), complete with miniature beds, miniature chairs, miniature plates, knives, forks, spoons, cups, and toilets. Miniature food. Miniature books. Things you never even IMAGINED came in miniature form.

And anything that ISN'T miniature is surrounded by tools to aid the Dwarfs, in their mini-ness, with day-to-day life. (Please don't mind the step-stool in front of the sink, or the ladder in front of the fridge, or the hundred other safety hazards in my home; my dwarfs are becoming self-aware and want to do everything by themselves today.)

Fear not! Snow Mommy has become very accustomed to this way of life.  In fact, I often think strangers from outside the enchanted forest must look at me funny as I automatically take large, knee-bending, leg-lifting steps everywhere I go to avoid any unseen... (insert any miniature item here). Or when I don't think twice about using a dixie-cup for my lunch beverage, or a small, plastic coated spoon to eat my oatmeal.

The little dwarfs go to "work" every day, make themselves filthy, don't want to wash before dinner, wear Snow Mommy out with their crazy dwarf antics, and then fall peacefully asleep for the night to start again tomorrow.

And the only peaceful place in many a Snow Mommy cottage is to curl up in the tiny little dwarf-sized bed that has been so associated with nap-time that the actual dwarfs won't touch it with a 10 foot pole. Or their miniature 3 ft. pole that they carry around to beat other dwarfs over the head with.

But here is where Sir Disney got it wrong. Because when Prince Charming sweeps in to rescue Snow White (and yes, please sweep away), what we really need for him is to see that we are in a deep, almost deadly sleep, and BACK THE HECK AWAY. Because, if my Prince Charming, bless his sweet heart, comes home to the dwarfs playing peacefully and the house being clean and me resting and his first thought is "I better wake her up," this fairy tale is going to turn into a homicide movie very quickly.

~The End~

My little Bug...

Bean is off with her grandparents on a canoe adventure, so I got to spend the morning all alone with my beautiful second born, little Bug-a-Belle.

I very rarely get to spend alone time with her--- especially since she and Bean started *blissfully* napping at the same time. It was nice to get to spend the morning watching her just be her, although she was a little lost without big sister to torment.

There is no deep meaning to this post except to say she's such a fun, crazy little girl and I adore her to no end. I am so blessed to have such a curious, sometimes rotten, spunky little child. Today she was obsessed with the play phone. She kept picking it up, saying "Hiiiii..." and babbling for a few minutes, then throwing it across the room. Also, she's still pretty scared of the Bigfoot toy, so she was pretty preoccupied with standing far enough back to see it (on the top shelf, 4ft up), and then yelling at it. I love that she remembers its there and then has to go out of her way to make sure it knows she is not pleased with it's existence.

She's the exact opposite of Bean in almost every way, which makes every day with her totally new and exciting. For example, we didn't have baby locks on ANYTHING in the house except for the kitchen sink cabinet. Which Bean never even tried to open, anyway.

Now that Bug is mobile, EVERYTHING is locked. Well, it wasn't until Husband was on baby duty the other night... I was in the computer room, working away on school stuff, when I hear "No! No no no! Don't touch that...  {CRASH. Mysterious glug-glug-glug. Baby giggle.} Oh. My. God."

Bug was sitting on the kitchen floor with the cupboard open and 1/2 a bottle of corn oil spilled all over the floor. Every cabinet was equip with a baby lock literally 30 minutes later.

Ok, so the "deeper" lesson of this post is, I guess:

Nagging Wife: worthless

Baby Spilling Oil that Daddy has to clean up: Valuable currency in our home!



Anyway, I digress. She's adorable and I love her. She's such a joy to have around and I wouldn't trade her for all the well-behaved, self-absorbed babies in the world. (Although that isn't stopping me from praying this new little man slights away from Bug's inquisitiveness and towards Bean's self-absorption just a bit)

(This picture is the perfect example of my girls' personalities.

Bean is only concerned with her moment in the spotlight, and Bug is totally absorbed in EVERYTHING that is happening in the world!)

No rest for the Mommy...

8:00 AM
T-Minus 15 minutes until wake-up time.
Theoretically.

In my attempt to start getting into a "school" schedule slowly, I am making myself wake up at 7:30 (well, making my alarm go off at 7:30...). I need that 15-30 minutes for myself in the morning to really start my day in a good way. I wake up, take time to feel the baby move around, pray, drink some coffee, waste time on the internet.

It has really helped put me in a pleasant, happy mood for the day. Except...

Now both Bean and Bug have decided that their normal 8-8:15 wake-up time is just entirely too late in the day. They have both been waking up right at Mommy's quiet time for the past 4-5 days. I swear, one of Satan's many guises is as an alarm clock for small children.

So my supposedly peaceful morning routine is now being interrupted by screaming and angry protests from BOTH bedrooms. I had every intention of starting to put together some of the Character curriculum I was so excited to get in the mail last night, get breakfast out on the table, maybe make a worship playlist for bible time...

But, no rest for the Mommy.

Maybe tomorrow :)