Wednesday, May 22, 2013

isn't it ironic?

i remember, on more than one occasion, my mother saying to me, "i hope you get one just like you." i let this statement go in one ear, and out the other, usually accompanied by an eye roll or tongue out behind her back. i've always suspected my mother of being a witch or having some sort of supernatural powers, but how she willed me to produce a child exactly like myself is beyond my comprehension. 

oh, my mini me. 

my vivian. 

sugar and spice. bittersweet. my angel and my devil. all rolled up into one tiny, little miniature look-alike version of myself. 

is she my karma? my penance? my joy? my pain? 

in the last few weeks, you have changed again, little miss. every day you become smarter, faster, more agile, leaving me scrambling to try to stay ahead of you. hell, most days i would even settle for just keeping up. 

you are a whirling dervish, no doubt. the blonde flash.

a couple of weeks ago, eleanor and i were out tending to our new asparagus patch while you and jack were supposed to be picking up the play room. i heard you snicker and turned to see you sneaking back in to the house. i gathered eleanor and came in to find you. as we walked up the stairs, me bitching about your stuff every where, jack says to me, "mommy, vivian brought a dead bird into the house." 

it was one of those moments where time sort of froze. i paused for thought, mouth gaping open, because as much as i didn't want to believe this to be true, i knew that it was quite a possibility. 

i looked to you and asked if you did and you got a cheshire cat grin and said, "uh, huh. yes, i did." 

"where is the bird, vivian?"

"well, its on the trampoline," you said. 


on the trampoline! in the playroom! in the basement of our house! why the hell not?

i sat the baby down and grabbed you by your arm and whisked you down the stairs. you happily reached into the trampoline and pulled out the bird. the bird was dusty, covered in bird shit. it had been dead long enough that its eye balls were semi-missing and its head bobbed to the side of your hand from its broken neck. 

bird in one hand, brushing your hair out of your eyes with the other. you looked at me inquisitively, curious about what i would do next, but you also seemed quite proud of yourself. at this time, moments of my life seemed to flash by, recalling every critter i ever drug home, both dead and alive. at 36 the idea of grabbing a dead, shit covered bird seemed less appealing than it did in my youth, so i grabbed your other arm and marched you outside and made you chuck it over the fence. 

there were lots of "what were you thinking?" questions popping out of my mouth as we walked inside and all i could do was imagine the baby crawling into that trampoline days later, without my knowledge of said bird and her chewing on it. siiiiiiiick, vivian. thank God your brother is a tattle tail. 

this was one of those parenting moments that left me bewildered and uncertain how to respond. obviously, i entertain your curiosity as my mother entertained mine, but i prefer we leave rotting corpses outside of the house. 

the following week was your very first dance recital. you could not have been any less enthusiastic about it. there was some excitement when audrey showed up to bring you flowers with a "break a leg" note attached; but mostly you were just excited about getting to wear makeup. you looked so beautiful!

we got to maryville and you only wanted to go see bobby bearcat, eat pizza and get your picture taken in your costume and then go home. i am happy to report that you didn't freeze up as much as i had anticipated you to! you and the girl next to you were copying off of each other and doing a completely different thing than the rest of the girls. it was awesome and so cute! the dance recital was a very painful three hours long, but these are the things we do for our children. 

we came to pick you up back stage at the end of the show, your dad had flowers for you and i said, "hello! you did such a great job!" and you screamed at me, "I NEED A DRAAAAANK!" 

oh Lord, you are my child. after enduring those three hours, i needed a drink, too.

as we walked to the car, i said, "you did great, wasn't that fun! do you want to do it again?" you promptly and loudly replied, "NO! i want to go back to 'nastics." fair enough!

the day after your recital was mother's day. i got a sinus infection and a trip to "crab lobster." i really wanted to stay in bed all day but you were bound and determined to take me to red lobster. apparently so you could order macaroni and cheese and touch a live lobster. 

this was at the mother's day tea at jack's school. in the event you forget some day, the darling girl to the right of you is preslie, your first crush. you talk about her all of the time and when i asked what you liked about her, you told me "she wears awesome cowboy boots and plays skylanders!" 

the following week, we had dentist check ups. jack has the misfortune of having an enamel deficiency probably as a result of my never ending morning sickness and the medicine i took to help cope. we are hopeful that the next set of teeth will be in better shape than your six year molars. 

jack had two cavities that got fixed the following week. we opted for the mild sedation route as to not traumatize you your first run in with a dentist and his drill. it was going really well and then you told everyone in the room that your mom collected monster high dolls and "it's nothing to be embarrassed about mommy." suddenly, i couldn't wait for the sedation to kick in. 

you were a champ! we had no problems although you were very freaked out when you woke up and couldn't feel your tongue. 

yesterday was vivian's last day of preschool and today was jack's. another school year comes to an end. another year of smarter, faster, more agile. if irony is just honesty with the volume cranked up, i know what i am in for, and it scares the living daylights out of me. i know the maneuvers i pulled to try to stay ahead of friday and i fear that carra 2.0 is going to give me a run for my money. fortunately, i also think the witch blood is strong, the vodka even stronger, and i may ride my broom long enough to see karma complete its circle. (if vivian doesn't give me a heart attack before hand)

this is lincoln roske, your "boyfriend" that you talked about all year and called by his first and last name!

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