I was always one to run from drama in my school years. I see it as manipulation. And if I smell anything even remotely resembling manipulation you can bet your bottom dollar that I am out that door faster than lightning. Drama isn't quite the same thing from young kids (usually), but that doesn't change my dislike of it.
See, this is one of the reasons Ryan and I always thought for sure God would give us all boys. Among the other things that He could have considered were the facts that I love sports, never paint my finger nails, and really don't care for pink or purple much. I even consider it all joy when Ryan attempts to 'solve my problems'. I know, this does not sound particularly normal. Either nature or nurture, that is part of me. But seeing as how God does not very often follow our reasoning, here I sit recovering from a rather 'hysteria filled day', courtesy of two particular girly girls.
I think T stubbed her toe twice today. Now, I am known around here as a rather acomplished 'toe-stubber' so I know this event is not comfortable. But really, laying on the floor, hollering like she just got walloped by a baseball bat? And twice? After the second one I remarked that her feet must be growing (I know, real sympathetic). She suddenly stops, looks up inquisitively, and says with eyebrows perked, "Why?". After I explain the connection she pops up, sticks a foot in the air and says, very proudly, to everyone within ear shot, "Look, my feet are THAT big!!" Mom is now rolling her eyes and shaking her head while T bounces off....
T & J love going out to get the mail. But I really need to remember when it is windy to go with them. Otherwise it can be rather embarassing. The sudden wailing and frantic calling of 'Moooooom' that can be heard from inside, with the doors and windows closed, is enough to propel me out the door without any shoes to chase the wayward envelope. Down the middle of the street I run until I finally catch up to some bloomin' piece of mail offering a free window replacement estimate, addressed to the former owners! Up until the precise moment that I catch the flying mail J is still in vocal distress. Then it suddenly ceases. Wow, hope the neighbors appreciated that exhibition!
Then there was the ladybug flying around the dining room light at dinnertime (Dad works during dinnertime). They could hardly sit in their chairs; everytime the bug came anywhere above them they ducked like a jumbo jet was coming in to land on their plate. And they kept squealing, "Moooommmmm, the bug, the bug, get the bug!!". Meanwhile, I am feeding a hungry, thus cranky, baby her solids and am not interested in taking a break for A LADYBUG. Mom thinking: "Seriously, children"...But wait, now they are insisting, very distressed like, about how I must save the lady bug from getting burned on a lightbulb. Mom, in her head: "You have got to be kidding me".
In addition, we had the very dramatic exclamations about M needing a diaper change, RIGHT NOW because of the "really bad stinky!!". Or the curling up in a vertical fetal position becasue I said that the baby dolls had to be cleaned up, never mind it is bedtime and they will want their dolls in bed with them, anyhow. On top of it all T also has a scraped up knee which she insists can not be bent, one may not touch with any fabric, wash at all, etc and this injury recieves about a 2 on the 1 to 10 scraped up knee scale from yours truly.
Most days aren't quite this exciting. And I know it also could be a lot more intense, we have both family and friends with 5 girls. Really, I don't know how those Moms do it. On days like today stopping to talk or play with Z or M is a breath of fresh air!
But most days I really do cherish having girls. They can't wait for the days in which I paint their finger and toe nails, count the days until Sunday when they can wear their fancy dresses, and dance around the house on tiptoes many times a day. Both enjoy me doing up their hair nice and like playing with my hair. It is fun and rewarding to be able to teach them the tasks of cooking, cleaning, etc. And really, they are helping me enjoy being feminine, just a little bit more.
We are getting used to the girl thing, slowly. Why, just last Saturday Ryan actually stopped to browse the 'pink pages' of the first Christmas toy catalog to grace our mailbox!