So around ten this morning I decided to make a list of things I need for the kiddos’ room and figured I’d call Makayla to see if she could think of anything else I needed. On my list I had nightstand, lamp, toy-box, bookshelf, and mirror. Makayla will need this mirror when carefully putting together her super stylish outfits. She is very good at this and gets irritated with me because I run around in jeans and t-shirts all the time. She spends just as much time trying to put outfits together for me as she does herself and spends plenty of time scolding me for getting dirt on my jeans and having messy hair. She has been this way since she was little and when she was three, waltzing into gymnastics in her star shaped sunglasses, fashionable scarf, and sparkly headband, her coach would tell her what a little fashionista she was. So anyway, I called her and asked her if she could think of anything else we needed for her room.
“I need something to keep all my zhu-zhu pets in,” she told me. Zhu-zhu pets are fake hamsters that have all sorts of tracks and gadgets that you put together so that the little pets can have a wonderland to zip around in. Each and every piece of the track is sold separately and I could have probably made a down payment on my own island by now if it wasn’t for having to buy the stupid things all the time. New hamsters and tracks come out constantly and while I do not like having to compete with the herds of mooing mothers at Toys R Us, I do not mind collecting all of this paraphernalia for my girl child. The zhu-zhu pets have come in handy in many ways. While the tracks take forever to assemble, the delighted shrieks from Makayla when she’s watching her little hamsters zoom around makes me happy. She also doesn’t harass my mother and me for real hamsters. When Caleb was going through his “acting like a girl” phase, I was worried. Besides wanting to wear makeup, wear high heels, and paint his nails, he also loved playing with Makayla’s dolls and Barbies and wearing her stick on nails. Over Christmas, I watched him get a handful of zhu-zhus, lovingly put them in a princess castle, and then pick up a Barbie. I was thrilled when he used the Barbie as a weapon and started shooting the zhu-zhu pets because I found hope that he might not turn out to be a raging homosexual. Now, I personally have no preference over the sexual orientation of my children but I am expecting hoards of grandchildren from them someday. I would also be afraid of the discrimination a very gay boy child might face in college and am assuming my dear grandfather would be less than pleased. If Caleb does turn out to be a raging homosexual, I’m sure he’ll be fabulous though. Anyway, after having a talk about how we don’t pretend to shoot animals, while trying to mask my relief that he was doing something “boyish,” Caleb got back to styling the hair on the Barbie’s head and I got busy looking up child psychology on Google. When he was one, he only liked to play with his sister’s baby dolls and Clint would shower him with “manly” toys that went ignored, while I tried to comfort Clint with the fact that lots of little boys play with dolls. Luckily, when Caleb’s very girly big sister isn’t around, he enjoys Ironman and explosives so everything will probably be fine. I dunno. When I was little I loved the Ninja Turtles and explosives and was pretty much a boy until I was a teenager an as an adult I’m straight, so I’m assuming my son’s strange play habits do not define his sexuality. If my past predicts his future, then he will be a girl until he’s about fourteen, figure out how to be a boy, and then be attracted to women and only mess around with members of the same sex when highly intoxicated. We shall see.
Anyway, so I told Makayla I would also get a huge plastic tub for her massive collection of fake hamsters and she said she couldn’t think of anything else she needed. I asked her what kind of bed comforter she wanted since I’m assuming she will not be pleased with my brown one.
“You can decide,” she said, “but no grown up colors, just kid colors. And no boy stuff.” I remember harassing my mom when I was her age until she bought me a Ninja Turtle bed set. She also got me Ninja Turtle cereal bowels and all sorts of cool weapons. Makayla wouldn’t hear of such a thing.
I racked my brain trying to figure out what constitutes kid colors when she said, “actually, I really like zebra print. I like leopard print too. I like leopard print the most.”
Gross. Whatever. I jotted “zebra or leopard print comforter, preferably leopard,” hoping she wouldn’t start demanding leopard print outfits. I am ill prepared for having a six year old pimp looking creature.
“If I can’t find either of those, I’ll call you and tell you what they have,” I told her. We chatted for a while and I asked her what all she was bringing so that I could make sure I created enough stuff for her to store things in.
“Probably one of those plastic bins that have those different compartments for storing my art supplies in my room,” she said.
I was please that she knew the word “compartment” and imagined Caleb sneaking into her art stuff and covering everything with glitter, glue, and paint, remembering the time he snuck into my room with a tube of blue oil paint and used the paint as glue to stick like, twenty unraveled condoms all over the wall and dresser. I told Makayla we’d keep her art stuff in my room and I would be the one to hand it out and collect it to avoid any catastrophes. While we talked, I was loading the dishwasher and saw Matt had left a cereal bowel in the sink with milk and fruity pebbles still in it. I dumped it out and was horrified to see the leftover milk and cereal had become a goopy, slimy mess. I immediately started dry heaving and thought I might throw up. Makayla was horrified, asking what was going on.
“I dumped out something gross in the sink and it’s making me sick!” I wailed, “Quick, help me think of something else! Help me think of something else!”
“I don’t know what to think of!” she screamed, panicking.
“Tell me a story!” I managed to gasp as another dry heave took over me. I tried to get the image out of my head, telling myself to think of something else and all I could see was the slimy, icky mess.
“Once upon a time you had a baby in your belly and the baby was my little brother,” Makayla said, sounding very worried, “and I remember when he came out of your belly and I got to go see you at the hospital and hold him and I love him so much. Now he is three. And his name is Caleb only I call him Brother and he is so cute. The end.”
She waited and I waited and after a few seconds I felt better.
“Thank you,” I said, “that was awful.”
“You are very strange,” Makayla told me. I ignored her and we got back to the list. She let me know she had a pop tart for breakfast and she had had one for breakfast yesterday. I was very bothered by this and have told my mother constantly not to let her eat stuff like that, especially as a meal, but my requests go ignored. I’m all for baking cookies every now and then and letting my kiddos have a cookie as a snack after dinner or something, but I am not cool with pumping a kid full of sugar and calling it “breakfast.” My sister Amber used to give me such a hard time because instead of candy and sweets, I usually give my kids fruits and vegetables for snacks. My sister Kalyn laughed hysterically when my kids called granola bars “candy bars” because that’s what I told them they were. Both of my sisters thought I was really mean to never let the kids have soda or little debbies and only occasionally let them have a piece of candy or a cookie. But now I’ve got two kiddos who have no issue eating a wide variety of veggies, even raw, and think nothing of being served asparagus or squash and they inhale it as if it was sugary goodness. Since I brainwashed my kids to believe raw veggies and fruits were “fun snacks,” I now have kiddos who snack on raw zucchini, carrots, tomatoes, broccoli, and whatever else I give them. I made a note to discuss the whole pop tart thing with mother later and tried to rack my brain with quick, easy things Makayla could do herself for breakfast, since mom usually sleeps later than Makayla does. I instructed Makayla to go find an apple or banana and drink plenty of water after eating the pop tart and right when I was about to hang up, Makayla said, “Mommy?”
“Yes?” I asked her.
She didn’t say anything and I asked if she was still on the phone.
“Well,” she said, sounding really shy, “do you think you’re going to buy new toys too? Because Grandma told me I have to give my old ones to kids who don’t have toys so maybe I won’t have enough at your house?”
“You will bring lots of your own toys here but I will buy you some new, cool stuff. When you move to Dallas, you’ll be here a lot more so I need to have stuff for my house so Grandma doesn’t have to pack all your toys every time I come fetch you.”
She let out a cry of victory and I asked her if she could think of anything she really, really wanted.
“I can think of one thing I want more than anything in the world and I want the rest to be a surprise,” she said, “Do you remember when I was four and you got me all those beads and we made jewelry together all the time?”
I told her I did remember. I still have everything she made for me in my jewelry box and I adore her masterpieces.
“All I want is beads like that Mommy, so we can make jewelry together. Remember how Brother used to get into the beads when we were making stuff and try to do it too?”
I remember all too well the teething, thrashing, angry little one and a half year old trying to put a bead on a string like his sister and then becoming furious and hurling the entire tray of beads across the floor after he realized his tiny little fingers weren’t capable of such a feat. I remember Makayla’s cry of horror at seeing all of her beloved beads strewn about the entire living room and how we both spent over an hour picking up beads and putting them back in the tray, while Caleb screamed at us from his playpen.
“I will get you beads,” I said, “but Bubba is probably still too little to really do stuff like that so maybe that’s something we can do when he’s taking a nap or when he goes to bed.”
“But he’s nearly four Mommy, and I was four when I started doing beads.”
True. But Makayla was one of those weirdo super advanced kiddos that talked at ten months, said full sentences by fifteen months, played Candyland at eighteen months, and mastered drawing inside the lines by two.
“Girls usually do things quicker than boys do,” I said, “Bubba will learn soon.”
“When you go get that stuff for my room, make sure you get stuff for Bubba too Mommy,” she said. I assured her I would remember.
“Grandma is still sleeping so I have the phone with me,” Makayla said, “call me if you need help.”
My mom is suffering some pretty horrifying insomnia right now because of her seizure meds and it was nine their time so I wasn’t really too worried about Makayla being up by herself. I’ve gotten her up, made her cereal, plopped her in front of the TV, and gone back to bed when I was super tired. Bad mommy.
“Do you know how to call me with Grandma’s phone?” I asked her.
She thought a minute and then said, “I don’t think I know your phone number. Let me go grab a pencil. Hang on.” She ran off and I was thrilled that she was now able to write down information like that. She came back to the phone and told me she was ready and I realized I didn’t know my phone number because I just got a new phone. I scrambled through my Facebook, trying to find the post where I updated my number and then rattled it off to her. She repeated it back to me and I told her how brilliant she was. After we hung up, I felt a little pain in my heart, wishing she was with me to help me go shopping. Matt worked so hard building the room for the kiddos and I feel very lucky to have someone who was willing to spend countless hours for my babies. I am very nervous about how much life will change when they’re here over the summer. I’m worried about finances since Makayla will be in gymnastics and swimming and I’m worried about how Matt is going to react to two small children and a girlfriend who morphs from working college student to mom. He has three little sisters (one who is Makayla’s age) and a little brother so he’s really good with kids already. Caleb has already met him and adores him and demands to know what Matt’s up to every time we’re on the phone. I’m worried about how spending all summer with me and then moving back with mom for the school year is going to affect Makayla. I do know I’m going to be well prepared for when she comes. I’ve been hoarding money like a crazy person, never go out anymore, and will soon be interviewing sitters for when I’m working. I’ve been meeting neighbors who have kids so that Makayla will have friends when she comes. I’m really nervous about a lot of things but more than anything, I am SO excited. I can’t wait to have my little kiddos all to myself for three whole months. I thought about taking a few summer courses just to knock some hours out of the way but decided against it. The kids deserve 100% of my attention and time this summer and I’m not going to allow myself to be distracted and stressed over school. It’s already going to be a challenge to work while they’re here and I want the time I’m home to be spent with them, not homework. When I walk by their room, I get a little chill of excitement and can nearly see them here already, playing and shouting for me to come assist them with something. A real challenge is going to be how I’m ever going to sleep the entire time they’re here. I do not want my kids seeing me sleep in the same bed as Matt so I’ll be sleeping with them and they are both the world’s most thrashing dreamers ever. When I thought about my reasoning behind why I don’t want them seeing me sleep with Matt, I couldn’t really put my finger on it. I don’t think a couple should be married before they sleep together. I don’t even think a couple needs to get married at all if they don’t want. I don’t plan on hiding my relationship with Matt from them, I just don’t think I’m comfortable letting them see me sleep in the same bed as him. When Jake and I were together, he and I shared a room and Makayla saw me sleeping in the same bed as him. When Clint and I were together, before Caleb was born, Clint and I slept in the same bed and Makayla saw that. And I thought I was obligated to be with Clint forever, that’s not how it turned out. And in my naivety with Jake, I just KNEW we would be together forever and get married after college so I thought it was safe for Makayla to see us share a bed and then that didn’t work out. My relationship with Matt is based on respect, kindness, trust, and stability. My first relationship was based on obligation and sacrifice. My second was based on having fun and being an idiot. There was never respect, trust, or stability in either one of them. So while I think Matt and I are going to be fine in the long run, knowing our relationship is much more real and mature than any relationship I’ve ever been in before, I don’t want Makayla seeing me share a room with a third guy until I’m married. The marriage part is because then I know it’s forever. I don’t believe Matt and I will ever separate, but I don’t know the future and if we do break up someday and she’s seen us share a room, and then I meet someone else and she sees me sharing a room with THAT person, what kind of message would I be sending her? So I will be sharing a bed with my two tiny dream thrashers and I’m assuming I’ll end up on the couch more than once. Anyway, Matt is nearly home and I am going to ask for his assistance on picking out furniture for the kids’ room since he’s good at stuff like that. Only one more month till the kiddos come home!!!!!!!
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