The '80s Came Calling, and Other Major Minor Moments

Life can get you down if you don't make an everyday effort to find the fun in life's major minor moments. Mary Poppins used a spoonful of sugar to find the fun, and "Snap! the job's a game."  My spoonfuls of sugar happen to be my little ones. When I remember that they're kids, not miniature grown-ups, we have a lot of fun.

Sometimes, it's pretty easy to remember that they're not miniature grown-ups. A grown-up wouldn't bang her head on a wall because she didn't like her blue ruffled blouse. She wouldn't kick her mother because her skirt didn't twirl. Fashion is becoming increasingly important to my little woman. Yesterday, I went to check on her in the wee hours of the day because she was muttering. A close listen revealed her deepest, darkest fear: "I don't have any clothes!" Poor girl. She might have to go naked if I don't get the laundry put away.

Anger management is a big issue for us. A grown-up might tell you, "I'm mad at you!" But I really doubt a grown-up would then growl and fling her hand at you while shouting "Snowflake!" (Though I'd pay good money to watch an attorney throw a snowflake in court, just once.) Frozen is a really good movie. Gigi will tell you, "It's my bestest movie!"  I think there may be a few lines here and there that speak to empowering females. Gigi's takeaway from it? When mom ruins your fashion plans, you throw magic snowflakes. Sometimes I wish I was a kid too. I've had a few snowflake moments myself. RJ, on the other hand, takes out his aggression a little differently. "Mom, you know what I could do to you right now?" he spat at me from the tub. "What?" I sighed, preparing for battle. "I could give you a big kiss and a hug." He's a lover, not a fighter.

Gigi and I have been spending a lot of time together.

This outfit pleases her. No snowflakes were thrown. 

This outfit pleases her too, so do the pigtails. Her daddy makes her pretty happy too. 

Gardening pleases her. 

So does the library. 

What really makes her happy? A lunch date. She ordered her own chocolate milk and ice cream. Because, being a miniature grown-up sometimes makes her happy too. It's tough to remember that she's only two some days. She still has accidents and wants to snuggle on her mommy's shoulder at night. And the next day? She'll tell her bestie, "Honey, I can't hold your hand right now. I'm holding a napkin." Or, she'll let me know that her kitchen isn't stocked well: "Honey, I'm out of tea. You want coffee?" (She's well on her way to becoming a southern belle with all of her honey's, her twirl skirts, and her deep affection for all things buttered.)

With RJ, it's a little more difficult to remember that he's still a little boy. Sometimes, he's pretty deep, particularly at bedtime. Because really, when else would you tackle the chicken versus the egg? "Mom, how do chickens make eggs? 'Cause when you crack them, they break? And they were chickens? Do mom chickens put them back together?"

Then again, sometimes, he's just such a little boy it almost hurts to think of him growing up. He needs naps and chocolate milk. Kindergarten is exhausting. Last week, he told his swim teacher, "I'm tired today. I did a lot of bending. I dropped my pencil twice!" You've got to hold onto those pens and pencils folks--all of that bending can wear you out.

Tonight, I dressed them up like little grown-ups. It seemed like a fun idea.  It didn't go exactly as planned:

The '80s called. They want their hair back. 

Then again...this kid can pull off anything. Ladies, don't say I didn't warn you. 

Eventually, I'll find my way back to more interesting, more cohesive thoughts. (Those thoughts are being devoted to bar journal articles and the like these days.) For now, these are the major minor moments that help me remember that they're kids, not miniature grown-ups.