in which i try to pee alone

Today I get home and am in desperate need of the toilet, so I do an utterly audacious thing:  I walk into the bathroom and close the door. 

No sooner have I sat down, than both girls are at the door screaming as though they’ve been stabbed.  I should know better than to look… I mean, I *do* know better… but whenever my children are crying, some sort of absurdly over-developed primordial instinct takes over, and a surge of epinephrine prepares me  to fight with whatever predator may be devouring my offspring. 

I open the door, just a centimeter to check for wolves and lions and hawks and such, and my firstborn pounces in and declares mightily that she needs to pee right this very instant.  We take such declarations seriously, as her independence from diapers is yet in its incipience.  She sits down on her froggy potty, directly across from me.

So there we are, face to face, drawers on the floors, having just another run-of-the-mill, tender mother-daughter moment.  I look at my daughter and see four eyes (two human, two amphibian) looking back.

Her:  What are you doing?
Me:  I was thinking about peeing.  Sometimes I have to pee, and I just, I come in here thinking maybe I’ll have myself a bit of a pee.
Her:  I’m peeing, too.  Can you stop talking now?  I really need to pee, Mom.

Her face grimaces with concentration and soon a trickle is audible.  And then a hysterical Lily bursts in, screaming her hysterical I’m-about-to-succumb-to-natural-selection scream.  “I WANT MILKKKKKK!” she screams.  She hysterically climbs onto my lap and hysterically pulls down my shirt.

All while my firstborn and her toilet are staring at me from across the tile. 

Her:  I beated you.
Me:  What?
Her:  I peed faster than you.  I beated you.
Me:  Well, I was distracted because Lily came in. 
Her:  Mom, you didn’t pee fast.  I’m the pee champion.

This erudite conversation is interrupted by Lily hysterically screaming “NOOOOOOOO!”  Lily doesn’t like it when I talk while she’s nursing.  She will not have it.

And then Amelia again, with, “Mommy, how are you going to dump my pee into the toilet if you’re sitting on it?”

Her toilet has a removable body-waste receptacle, which I normally empty immediately after use.   “I’ll empty it after I pee, honey.”

But it is too late – she has stood up, receptacle in hands.  “Here, Mommy.”  Before I process what is happening, I am holding an open bowl of urine with one hand, a nursing toddler with the other, and my drawers are still all the way down on the floors. 

“Tiiiiiiimmmmmm!”

And then there we are, all four of us.  All hanging out in our shoe-box-sized bathroom together, just like every other time I try to pee.

And that stupid frog is just sitting there with a smirk on his face.

The Lily Chronicles: Destructor

While some people are known for leaving everything better than they found it, my little Lily Love has a penchant for catalyzing disarray.

I truly don’t believe that Lily purposely destroys everything she touches – she just… ummm… does.  For example, I have never seen a child love her books so passionately (read: violently).  She hugs them, drags them around, kisses them, bends them in every direction, and pulls off all loose parts.  This crate has been filled more than once with stories in need of repair.

And I can’t believe that she desires a life as Earth’s youngest graffiti artist; rather, I think she looks at objects not as they are, but as they could be… she really sees their potential, if you will.  I mean, who wants a white fridge when they could have a squiggly-wiggly blue and white and hand-printy fridge?

And who would want a pristine hardwood floor when they could have one with crayon drawings and ballpoint-pen gouge marks?

And who would want to be a boring green and white burro when they could have a custom transcendental tattoo (this one says, “serenity” in Chinese).

Honestly, does anybody have a perfect table top?  (Please don’t answer that.)

Tim’s absolute favorite is when Lily uses artistic expression to edit his cookbooks and textbooks.  (Read:  Lily may get sold to the gypsies.)

But of all the things Lily has utterly destroyed (not counting my belly), I think this takes the cake:

I am working toward a 25-year forgiveness plan.

The Lily Chronicles: The Torturing of the Sis

Perhaps you’ve caught on to the fact that Lily can be quite exasperating at times, and nobody is more keenly aware of this than her older sister.  Particularly during the winter-inversion months when the air wasn’t clean enough to go out to play, Lily would create her own diversions by scheming ways to get her sister’s (ahem…) attention.  Several times a day, Amelia would turn to me and say (adapting a line from Olivia), “Mommy… she really does wear us out, doesn’t she?”

For example, one of Lily’s very favorite games is to quietly get closer and closer to Amelia, steal whatever toy Amelia is playing with, and then take off running while yelling, “You can’t catch me!  Can’t catch me!”  Amelia does not like this game nearly as much as Lily does for some reason.

But it’s not all fun and games.  Lily becomes highly offended when anybody pays special attention to her sister.  Whenever Tim sits down to read Amelia a story, Lily drops whatever she’s doing and runs over to spoil the moment… usually in the form of sitting on Amelia, throwing the book, or singing so loudly that nobody can hear the story.  In the picture below, we tried to distract our terrific toddler with a stuffed animal.  She tried desperately to pull its teeth out.

The list goes on.

“Hey Amelia, I know you’re trying to make a beautiful picture, so I’m going to help you by throwing all your things on the ground and then taking the scissors and cutting holes in a bunch of Mommy’s shirts”  (True story.)

“Hey Amelia, I know you’re trying to take a nap, so I’m going to climb into your bed and steal your favorite blanket and pillow a la Goldilocks.  Oh, I suppose I’ll steal a book as well, for good measure.  Don’t mind me.  Have a nice nap, Sis!”

“Heyyyyy, Amelia.  I know you’re asleep and you hate waking up and kisses, but I’m just gonna go ahead and try my hardest to wake you up with kisses.”

“Hey!  Sis!  I know that’s your special balloon and that you’re so desperate to keep it from me that you’re tying it in a hundred knots around Rody’s ear, but …. hmmm… I know, I’m going to run off with Rody.  Can’t catch me!  Can’t catch me!”

“Hey Amelia, I know you had to leave dinner for a potty break, so I just went ahead and improved everything.  I’ve made you hamburger-helper-and-pea soup.  Ummm, it’s dairy based, and you’re going to need a new beverage. Bon appetit!” 

“Heya, Sis.  I can see you’re busy, so I’ll just leave you alone.  Right after I throw this ball at your head about 48 times.  Oh gosh, we have good times, don’t we?”

“Hi, hi, hi!  That’s a great tower you’re building.  Mind if I just, oh I dunno, just lie down on top of it?  Oh, you didn’t want me to do that?  Okay, I can see you’re upset, just calm down so we can talk this out.”

“I’m really very sorry.”

The Lily Chronicles: Do you like my hat?

The personality of the wearer and the hat makes the hat. 
            ~Philip Treacy

Evolution is a clever beast.  Lily is surely the naughtiest child I’ve met.  At a tender 21 months, she has mastered the arts lying, stealing, destroying, escaping, shrieking, disobeying, taunting, and cunning.  And yet we love her madly, deeply, fiercely… in our bones.

The primary reason that Lily has not been sold to any Bohemian tribes is that she is hilarious.  When she’s not minioning for Satan, she is entertaining us… singing The Soup Opera, tickling us,  blowing zerberts on our bellies and arms and cheeks, jumping SO HIGH (a couple centimeters), and making silly-hat jokes. 

If somebody starts chastising her poor behavior, she grabs the nearest object, puts it atop her cranium, and says, “You like my pretty hat?”  Then she smiles sweetly and with so much self satisfaction because she already knows she has won and all is forgiven.

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Lily, stop banging your toy seahorse on the wall we share with the neighbors!

Lily, give Amelia’s pants back to her!

Lily, stop trying to sit on Amelia’s head!

Lily, get lost, I’m trying to sleep!

Seriously, Lily, get lost - I’m trying to sleep!

Lily, get off Amelia’s potty – she needs to pee!

Lily, stop stuffing oatmeal into your belly button!

Lily, get out of here – I’m trying to mop the floor!

Lily, stop flinging your dinner at the window!

Lily, stop trying to throw Amelia’s clothes into the bathtub!

Lily, stop eating the frosting out of oreos and stomping the cookie parts into the carpet.

Lily, stop running off, cackling, with Amelia’s snacks.

Hey Lily, that’s Amelia’s blue hat!

Lily, STOP MAKING MESSES!

“But seriously, guys, do you like this hat?”