Yo soy La Lay

This is part of the 31 for 21 Blog Challenge!

(John decided that he wants to contribute…. so this one’s from him.)

The only reason I’m doing this is because Maggie is going to burn out if she doesn’t get some blogging help…and because her blogs need something funny as opposed to serious.

If you are a parent you must know the joy of getting your kids out the door (especially when you have somewhere to be).  My morning is funny.  Mag is out the door before the kids are awake and to be perfectly honest, she doesn’t have a clue about being under pressure.  I know what you’re saying… Maggie was with Tessa in the NICU, Maggie was at Tessa’s ear surgery all alone, Maggie works with the therapists to help Tessa…but she doesn’t get the joy of helping these little humans look presentable before day care.  Therefore, she doesn’t know real pressure.

Here’s a story about real pressure:

This morning Tessa wakes up at 4:00 am because apparently she’s trying to get a head start on daylight savings time.  We have a talk while she eats her bottle.

Me: “Tessa, you need to sleep in later than this.”

Her: “Dad, you need to wake up earlier, today is a new day and you’re wasting it by sleeping.”

Me: “Yes, I understand your point, but you see, Daddy needs rest in order to have patience with your sister.”

Her: “Look, when you share a room with her then you can talk to me about patience, until then, just pass the formula.”

Then Ellie is awake.  At this point we are playing fictional character lottery.  What is fictional character lottery you ask?  Well, every morning when Ellie wakes up she is reincarnated as one of her favorite characters.  It could be Anna, Elsa, Aladdin, The Little Mermaid, Princess Sophia.  In any case, I begin the egg shell walk because if I get the wrong character, our little actress will be upset.  I am a lawyer during cross examination:

Me: “Good morning…Soph-”

Her: “I’M NOT SOPHIA”

Her head goes back under the covers and I let the anger hang in the air.

Me: “What I meant to say was…Good morning…um…Anna of Arond-”

Her: “I’M NOT PRINCESS ANNA”

I’m 0-2.  Third time is a charm or a strike and by now I’m going to be late as it is, so I may as well just keep throwing out names.  I say the entire cast of Frozen in 2 seconds.  She is staring with a look that says, If you think for one second that I’m going to reveal my identity this easily, you should turn around, walk to the bookcase, and re-read What to Expect When You’re Expecting.  Because in that book it clearly states that I AM NOT AN INFANT!

I let her pick out her clothes…part pajama, part scuba gear, and give her some goldfish crackers so I don’t awaken the hangry beast.  Meanwhile, Tessa needs to get dressed.  She wears something cute because she doesn’t realize she is opinionated about what Mags puts out for her to wear.

Ok, Let’s recap…Tessa is dressed, Ellie is dressed.  Here comes the hairbrush.  Combing Ellie’s hair should not be the dramatic scene that it becomes.  Never having had long hair, I suppose I am more sensitive to her “pain” when she gets her hair brushed.  She is able to avoid me at every turn.  If Ellie could move all day like she moves when she is about to get her hair brushed, I would sign her up for the NFL and put her on my fantasy football team because no one could catch her.  She’s like a greased chicken (if there is such a thing).

When I finally set her down to brush her hair we have a heart to heart.

Me: “Ellie, you have to get your hair brushed so you can look presentable”

Her: “Go brush Tessa’s hair, please”

Me: “Tessa doesn’t need her hair brushed, you are the person who needs their hair brushed.”

Her: “Can I brush your hair?”

So, of course, I let her brush my hair to be an example of courage in the face of the comb.  She begins to brush my hair and she looks at me and demands, “Cry.”

Me: “I’m sorry?”

Her: “Cry when you get your hair brushed.”

Me: “You want me to-”

Her: “Cry.”

I shed a few pretend tears and we trade places.  She sits patiently now that justice and fairness has presided over our situation and her hair is now brushed.  (Although, it still looks terrible because I tried to put it in a ponytail but it never looks as nice as when anyone else puts it up).

The finish line is in sight.  We are almost to the door.  We walk to the car.  We sit.  We belt.  We smile.  We realize we have left our favorite pink fleece in the house.  We need to get it.  We will not be calmed.  We will not be reasoned with.  We will all go back in to the house together.  We are now wearing the fleece.  We drive.  We arrive. We drop off.

I realize this ranting sounds like lies and exaggerations.  This is real life.  It is our life. Well, ok, Tessa can’t really talk, but that is a minor exaggeration.  But I didn’t tell you the best part.  When I drop them off they become two great, well-behaved kids (95% of the time).   I wish Ellie a great day and tell her I love her.  She promises me that she will be more well behaved in someone else’s care than mine.  Tessa smiles…it looks like a pity smile but who can tell.

I can’t emphasize this enough…This is not a complaint!  This is hilarious.  I truly wish you could have this experience because while the pressure is on, the time is crunching, and when everything seems like its falling apart… these kids make me laugh… They’re both nuts!  They fit right in. 🙂

4:30 am Tessa