I have had the distinct pleasure of spending the entire cold, rainy Sunday in the presence of Lily and Virginie and Lily and Virginie only. With five loads of laundry, a dishwasher full of dishes, two beds to strip and remake, play, clean up, play, clean up, it should be obvious that I am beat down like a clown and pretty short on nerves. After a bath this evening, the girls were trying to decide which pajamas to put on. For many children I can only imagine that it is not the game show drama and madness that it is over here. We can't just put on whatever Mommy leaves out for us, no matter that we chose these pajamas at the store ourselves. We need to make pretty precise decisions about why each pair is appropriate for this particular evening. Tonight, Lily requested the "princess pajamas." Okay, the princess pajamas are some pink flannel numbers with all of the Disney bitches on them that both girls used to own. Used to because the 2T's that were once Virginie's can now fit their doll babies and the 5T's that were once Lily's are creeping high on her leg. Her tiny bum fits snugly but the pajamas really are too short. There is now just one pair of jammies and it doesn't really fit either of them.
When the people discovered that there were princesses to be had, they each went pretty much out of their minds and demanded that they be given the jammies to wear. Neither gave a damn about the other's feelings. "She can wear the reindeer. She can wear the penguins. I want the princesses." It's been a long day and Mommy's brain was just not up for the closing arguments that both girls were about to offer so your judgeship came up with this. "You wear the bottoms and you wear the tops. Find what you are missing and let's keep it moving."
Virginie is now wearing the top of the pajamas with her naked booty wiggling free and Lily is topless with some highwaters on her legs. Tonight the fight is over pajamas; other nights, it's over the television or a Polly Pocket or me. Can I be split in two? Lily would like me to snuggle with her before bed in her room (the room shared with Virginie). Virginie would like to stay up and watch TV, or argue about it at least, in my room. They both plead their cases with pretty lame arguments, "because I want you to" is a pretty popular one, and then I am forced to stand before them and hand down a verdict. I try to do so with a lot of kisses and reassuring "You know I love you's" but my decision usually comes down with one of them melted onto the floor in a jiggly puddle of tears, the other, near gloating, which shows itself as insane motormouthing and explaining about some trivial little girl nonsense like whatever the heck Twilight Sparkle has up her sleeve or have I heard of these beyond fantastic slippers called Stompies.
What's funny is that they do not think I am on to them. They somehow believe that this game, this competition is going to end with one of them on top and the other vanquished. We go back and forth. I threaten to destroy the toy, project, playdough, book that is being wrestled over rather than hand it over to just one, only to find that they are quite capable of sharing and working it out. Four out of five times Virginie just wants to see Lily squirm. She just wants to hold the baby snow tiger plushy for thirty seconds and is then perfectly willing to give it to Lily to love down to the ground. But not tonight. Nothing comes between a girl and her Princesses. Nothing.
(c) Copyright 2012. Repatriated Mama: Back to the Suburban Grind.
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