Magical

Arriving home after several days of work-related travel...hearing those delighted shrieks of "Mama!!!!!" and nearly getting knocked down in the huge, warm, wiggly hugs.

I am so, so lucky.

Her Highness

Typing this in a hurry because I have to go pick up her majesty at daycare in about ten minutes.

Addie has begun truly exerting her two year old self.

Remember that kid in The Exorcist? I'm sure I've made this comparison before.

Well, that kid was DAYCARE compared to Adele when she doesn't get her way.

Ad is a manager of mad. An administrator of anger. A goddess of grump.

Kid's got grump for DAYS.

Is this just "terrible twos", or is Adele more...mercurial...than most toddlers?

Oh, and the following is not about her grumples. Nooooo.

It's about her BOSSY.

Last night Addie announced at the dinner table, "I don't want Eva to talk". When no one really responded and Eva kept talking, Adele repeated it VERY LOUDLY AND EMPHATICALLY as though speaking to a table full of deaf people with mild intellectual challenges.

"I DON'T WANT EVA TO TALK!"

Nice.

Then, about a half-hour later, I was reading with Adele when she said, "NO MAMA. PAS PARLER". In English, that basically means SHUT UP.

(Yes, we are addressing this. Among other transgressions.)

Meanwhile, Adele has decided it's time to expedite her eventual move to a bed.

I've addressed my concerns (well, terror) about this, a post or two back.

We like having her in the cage at night.

SO.

As a compromise, we've started putting her into Eva's bed to fall asleep at night.

And for the time being, she doesn't seem to realize that SHE CAN GET OUT OF IT.

But it's still not easy.

Up until now, their bedtimes are staggered enough that Adele falls asleep in Eva's bed, then we move her into her crib so Eva can jump into bed.

Last, night, we made the mistake of moving Adele WHILE SHE WAS STILL AWAKE.

I am telling you, my arms are barely attached to their sockets.

The kid was PISSED.

I'm sure you heard the howls wherever you were. Glass broke, two towns over.

I think I have permanent hearing damage.

Which is okay, because Adele gives her (constant) directives so LOUDLY AND CLEARLY that I still get the gist.

I live to serve.

Sleepover

Eva's best friend is sleeping over.

So far, they've eaten supper, danced to the Grease soundtrack, played dress up, and fought a vicious battle over the rules of chess (!)

Moments ago, Eva tore out of the bedroom all dudded up (with the fly of her pants down) and demanded, "do I look like a rock star now?"

Stifling a snort of laughter took every ounce of strength in my body.

Right now they're going through her friend's little overnight bag.

Along with her pyjamas and toothbrush, she brought along:

Six cough lozenges and a tub of Vapo-Rub

Two superbounce balls

A stuffed unicorn

A giant stuffed rat

(and my favourite)

A pumpkin wand that lights up and spins

I love having little girls.

GET BACK IN THE $#*@!!! BED

1. Eva, tonight: "Without chocolate, I COULDN'T LIVE"

-I feel the same way about red wine. Particularly on Fridays.

2. Eva, also tonight: "It doesn't matter if you win. It just matters that you participate."

-Uh, right. Guess I'll be counting on your sister for a wealthy retirement.

3. Speaking of Adele - we're starting to consider moving her from a crib to a bed.

You can pretty much cue the ominous music right about now.

Adder is not like Eva was at two and a half.

Eva would come out and ask for water and a pee and a kiss and all that procrastination jazz. But when we said GET BACK IN THE BED, she went.

Eva's head is full of lollipops and gumdrops. Flowers and pixie dust. Butterflies and Froot Loops.

Adele's head has those things, too. But it also has a healthy splash of spit and vinegar. Thumbtacks and pork rinds. Bees and All-Bran.

The side that WILL NEVER, EVER GIVE IN TO WEAK, INSIPID MORTALS.

This is the two year old who locked me outside the other day (see post from November 2). Who laughed uproariously while I frantically tried to get her to open the door, and only opened it once she saw the veins physically pop out of my forehead - threat of a certain coronary if the door didn't open RIGHT NOW.

THE CHILD OPENED THE DOOR IN AN ACT OF MERCY.

And granted the constant nightly freedom of a BED, I know that she will show NO MERCY.

Adele will be nothing but a curly-topped 26-pound BOOMERANG.

The only thing going against her is that she's just a little weiner. She's short enough that we could probably keep her in the cage - I mean, crib - until after Christmas.

But sooner or later, we'll have to make the switch. It's only a matter of time.

And she'll be ready.

Oh yes.

She'll be ready.

(cue high-pitched evil laugh...then more ominous music...then fade out for Mama's bedtime)

Time just flu by

1. Just got back from getting Addie her H1N1 vaccination. SO GLAD to get one kid done. Frustrated that Eva's group doesn't come up until DECEMBER 7th. At the risk of sounding over-dramatic, it feels kind of Sophie's Choice to vaccinate one and not the other. I know the risks of any serious complications are low...but I'd like to make them even lower by getting that kid vaccinated!!! Anyway. Adder's done and I'm relieved about that.

Her memory shocked me yesterday...I said, "tomorrow we're going to the doctor" (well, random health-care professional) and she said "DOCTOR. THAT PICKS!" and pointed to her arm. She'd had her regular series vaccinations two weeks ago at the doctor's office.

I said, "It picks just a little bit"

She shook her head violently. "NO. IT PICKS A LOT"

Nice set up, Mama Bear. Way to freak her out in advance. DUH.

2. Started pushing the vacuum around this morning and Adele wagged her finger at me and bellowed, "NO MAMA! NOT ON THE CARPET! IT'S SOFT!"

Um. Smart kid. The CARPET is the POINT.

3. Eva got another 12/12 on her weekly spelling/math test. She has gotten ONE answer wrong all year. I'm kind of blown away. She can't remember to put the top back on the toothpaste...keep her butt planted on her chair during meals...leave the piano alone in the mornings because we have neighbours...etc etc etc. In fact, she'd forget to breathe if it wasn't an automatic bodily function. But song lyrics or academic stuff? Once you jam it in there, it's there for life.

4. Eva stayed home from school yesterday...she's been a bit on the sick side and I just wanted a day with my girlie. We rented "Les Choristes" - a French movie also known as "The Chorus" or "The Chorale" or something like that in English. There's a class photo with a bunch of old-fashioned-looking grubby little schoolboys on the DVD cover.

I'd seen it before - but loved it all over again because she loved it so much.

Worth renting - even subtitled, it'd be awesome, if only for the music.

Okay off to put away the vacuum. Wouldn't want it accidentally touching the carpet.

Can you hear me now?

1. Lost my voice. Well, not GONE but too weak to be on-air today. Wound up coming home and keeping Addie with me for the day - she's a bit sick with a cold, and seems to want a lot of cuddles. She keeps coming up to me and saying, "coller" (pronounced coll-AY). The verb "coller" means "to stick" - so she literally is asking to stick her little body on mine. It's kind of like saying "cuddle" or "hug", only a zillion times cuter. Which is my little bug's way.

2. Found myself on the WRONG side of the back door this morning, begging Adele to unlock the door while she laughed hysterically inside. I had stepped into the backyard to grab a bag of leaves, to set out for the garbage truck to pick up.

Quick as a flash, that little wretch slammed the door and LOCKED IT.

Suddenly I found myself outside looking in, with my TWO YEAR OLD completely free inside the house.

I'm sure it was hilarious for anyone observing from the outside - slightly crazed woman in sweatpants whispering curses and pounding on the back door, peering in through the window and gesturing like a one-armed air traffic controller on Christmas Day while begging to be let in...with all of my pleas completely inaudible because I HAVE NO BLASTED VOICE.

Adele seemed to understand, though, because after a horrifyingly stressful minute, she unlocked the door, smiling innocently the entire time.

Troll the Younger is NOT TO BE TRUSTED. EVER.

3. Eva has begun reading BECAUSE SHE WANTS TO. She's taken to carrying books around with her, cracking them open, and actually reading without us saying, "why don't you read a book?". Her fave is the Geronimo Stilton series. I watch it happen and melt - the whole world is opening up for her and we get a front row seat as it happens.

Kids are miracles, yes they are.

Miracles that ARE NOT TO BE TRUSTED FOR A FREAKING SECOND.

Halloween

1 Girls are down for a pre-Halloween eve nap. I've told Eva "No nap = no trick or treat" and she seems to be having a bit of trouble understanding the concept. I hate being the hammer, but she'll be one miserable little coot tonight if she doesn't catch a few zzzs. Not quite sure what I do if she actually doesn't sleep, ultimately. That was a dumb correlation for me to make - am I actually enough of a meanie to TAKE AWAY HALLOWEEN FROM MY CHILD? Probably not. Argh. I always thought I'd be an airy fairy hippy dippy mom. Instead I'm Cruella de Vil.

2. We are sick. All of us. Adele probably has it the worst; she's bubbling snot like Old Faithful bubbles hot water. And she's so fiercely independent, she doesn't even want us to wipe her nose for her - she wants to do it for herself. The result is dried snot all over her face and a toddler that looks like a wee Oscar the Grouch.

I must say, however, I love how Adele pronounces "booger" with a French accent: "Boogeur" with a little roll on the "R". It almost makes it fun to wipe away "les boogeurs".

3. Eva did two class projects out of entirely recycled-recyclable materials. One is a beanbag game, which is the project she actually entered in the competition at school (and lost but who cares). The other is a boat about the size of the kitchen table. I know the size is comparable because it has now been sitting on our kitchen table for many, many days.

And not because we LIKE it.

I have been trying to recycle that damned boat for TWO WEEKS NOW.

TWICE I have put it in the weekly recycling bin, only to have Eva shriek in shock and overly-dramatic offense that we are THROWING AWAY HER BEAUTIFUL CREATION and rescue the blasted thing from the bin. And then eventually it finds its way back to the kitchen table.

This time, I'm gonna bury that sucker SO DEEP DOWN IN THE BIN, it'll take a freaking DRILLING RIG to get it back. That boat is gonna strike oil!

THURSDAY MORNING. THE RECYCLING TRUCKS ROLL.