Parenting from the Trenches

Some kids require a lot of attention. So much that you can pick their mom's out of a crowd. They are the ones who are watching everything around them, taking notes on the tiniest little details because "in the trench" parenting will do that to a person. Your guard goes down and the result will become family lore.

Today was one of those days.

I had a toothache, so when my husband got home I asked him if he would take over so that I could lie down for a little while. Being the trooper that he is, he cheerfully told me to head off to bed and he would handle everything.

The thing is, I know better!

Don't get me wrong, he is a wonderful dad. He takes them out for walks in the rain so they can stomp in puddles and he makes a really great tent at night when they are getting ready to go to bed. It's just that he doesn't have the twitch that I do-- the one that comes from chasing around a really creative two year old and knowing how much trouble the said two year old can get into in three minutes or less.

I now call her "cocoa girl" and this is the story of "cocoa girl" and her side-kick, "I-did-not-see-her-do-that!"

It seems that at some point, dad decided he needed to use the bathroom. This is perfectly normal, unless you live with a two year old. I couldn't tell you the last time I went to the bathroom by myself unless "cocoa girl" was under another adult's watch. You'll understand why in just a few minutes.

I imagine the scenario went something like this.

Dad announces, "Be good for a few minutes while I go to the bathroom."

Eight year old sidekick barely looks up from Clifford the Big Red Dog on PBS to grunt, "whatever."

Two year old knows a golden opportunity when it presents itself. She probably watched him head off and then she sprung into action. She grabbed a container of cocoa from the kitchen and carried it around for a few minutes. She entered the living room where she probably noticed that when she pulled the lid a little bit, it opened. I like to think that she opened and closed it a few times, practicing her new found skill. I think she had a goofy smile on her face.

About now, I wake up from my little nap and hear that sound. Quiet, it is way too quiet in my home.

I run down the stairs, pretty much taking two at a time because I can sense the drama that is about to unfold.

My eyes absorb something spread all across the living room floor, but it takes several minutes to take it all in and figure out what I am looking at. At first all I can think of is that it looks like a beach, only the sand is a bit of an off color.

The cocoa container is lying against the side of the couch, alone and empty.

Cocoa girl is gleefully marching around the room. Tracking cocoa everywhere.

The good news is-- I am not thinking about the toothache anymore.

My words fly up the stairs towards "cocoa girls" dad. "Did you see what your daughter did yet?" This is a mess worthy of an audience, so I do not even begin clean-up.

He arrives a few moments later and takes it all in. The cocoa. The gleeful girl. The sidekick who has finally looked away from the telly to see what made mom make that noise.

As we are cleaning up, he gets a brilliant idea to open up the front door and try to sweep it outside. Cocoa dust is flying everywhere. I crack a few jokes about breathing cocoa dust and how I feel like a coal miner. Motherhood prepares you for so many careers.

A maintenance worker who is cleaning out an empty apartment a few doors down comes over to ask if we have power on since it seems the empty apartment has been turned off. He stands there in the doorway, rubbernecking. The cocoa. The dust. The look on my face.

"Wow, that is quite a mess," says he.

"Yes! Cocoa and kids do not mix," I answer.

Our cat decides that she really needs to come back home and she gingerly steps through the doorway. This is an animal that is used to having to step around messes. Apparently this is too much for her as well. After two steps in, she turns around and heads back into the parking lot.

Finally the maintenance worker walks away. We clean up the floor as best as we can and get "cocoa girl" and her sidekick "I-did-not-see-her-do-that!", ready to go pick up their thirteen year old sister from drama.

I can hardly wait to see what she does tomorrow. I know one thing, I won't take any naps.