Traditions are Important

Have I ever told you about our night time rituals?  We have the basic dinner, then play outside with Dad until Mom calls you in routine.  This is the point where I imagine our family splits from anything you'd see on prime time family sitcoms.

The kids head to their rooms to get ready for a bath...but instead of heading directly to the bathroom for a shower or bath, they take a turn into the living room for what we like to call, "The Naked Dance Party."  (only the children are naked)  Like any good tradition it developed over time.  What once was a simple spin around the room before bath has morphed into a full on dance event.

I turn on music...our favorite mix is my ipod playlist simply titled, "Run."  It is a mix of Will.i.am, Black Eyed Peas, Queen and U2.  Very soothing before bedtime.

The kids dance around the living room for about 15 mins.  BB has a lot of ballet moves. Graceful leg kicks and plies turns. Arms held above his head.  EG/Michael has more of a "hands in the air, wave them around" feel to her dance.  She also really likes spinning as a raw art form.  "I dizzy, I dizzy, I dizzy....OHHHHHH, I going to fall down."

My husband and I dance as well.  We laugh a lot, too.

Then they take a bath or shower.  The kids try to get back on the dance floor but we corral them into underwear and pjs.

I thought you'd enjoy this visual. 

I've been gone a bit, I felt I owned you something special to hang on to as you head into the weekend.

Annnnd....We're Back.

Today is the day we visit Michael and BB's classrooms.  I will bring the stroller so I can carry the mountain of school supplies we need to bring along.

I will be going as a Cyclops (that's the monster with one eye in the middle of its forehead, right?) as I have a rather large pimple right between my eyes.  I am concerned about popping it, due to its location.  I would hate to get an internal infection into my brain lining and thus die from a pimple.  (I swear my DAD told me this myth at some point.)

I can not get into my hotmail account.  The amount of use this one application in my life gets is frightening...especially when I realize how much information I have stored within the annals of my account.

Welcome to September...here we go!

Michael

Everyone handles stress differently.  I get that.  I'm open to a range of coping mechanisms.  There is the teeny, tiny possibility that we might be pushing EG a bit too far over the last week.

She started potty training.  That's a whole other entry to come, but let me say that the whole "no more diapers for me" breezy attitude she portrays on the exterior, is cracking.

Add to this, she starts a preschool program next week.  It isn't that many hours, nor am I making a BIG-First-Day-of-School deal out of it.  But again, while she may talk a big--two year old, I know how preschool goes because I've seen my brother go--game...I think she's a bit overwhelmed.

Enter Michael.

Over the weekend she declared that we all must call her Michael.  She would not respond to any of the traditional names we go by.  Not. One.  Only--Michael.  She began to refer to alter-ego in the third party.  "Michael needs to go potty.  GET OUT.  Michael can do it by himself."  After a while she did things she thinks Michael does.  Include "swimming" and "diving" off the couch (feet first--don't worry), going to school and riding a bike.  She also made her brother play the role of Michael's siblings.  (Because this is a real family, so we must be authentic in her mind.)  So, poor BB would alternate between going along with it and snapping at her.  I let his out bursts go because, Michael tested our 38 year old patience level...let a lone the 4 year old's.  Because....she really got into character...for hours at a time this would go on before a mild crack in the veneer, and EG would reappear.

When the crackling happened in "Michael's life" you could see us all hope that the phase had passed. "Whew, that's over."  (short patience levels here...as if a two year old will let anything this good go in a days time.)

Yesterday, BB called it quits.  In a fun unity front between BB and myself, we tag teamed EG most of the day.  "Only EG can ride in the new car seat."   "Oh, bummer, only EG can go outside."  "Oh, sorry...the neighbor kids want to play with EG..."  We made up all types of things only EG could do.

So she switched it up.  Ditching Michael, she became 'A Baby.'
(That turned out to not be any fun.  Especially, when I cuddled her and then told her babies can't move.  I set her down on the couch.  BB informed her that really new babies can't even turn over so she should just lie there if she wanted to be a "true" baby.  Bless his little soul.)

Then she became 'The Mommy.'  (yes, I am SURE 'the' is capitalized in her mind.)  This role required BB to be the baby.  After dinner last night, Saint BB was allowing EG/Michael/Baby/The Mommy to feed him his bedtime snack of water in a bottle** and crackers.  When he got off the chair, tired by the day, to mercifully head to his room, The Mommy bellowed from across the room.

"Baby, you crawl to bed. Babies crawl."

BB looked at his parents with a resigned expression, and said, "Ok, Michael...I mean, The Mommy.  Good. Night."



**It is his normal water bottle. I haven't completely lost my mind.