Daughter's

“Maisie, can you get momma a diaper?”…from the bottom of the stairs I hear, “NO! Not right now”. As the naked baby lies before me with a twinkle in his eye as though he and his sister planned this whole thing out, I wonder to myself, can we make it downstairs in time to get a diaper. “Maisie, please get momma a diaper before Carson pee’s all over me”. Thankfully I hear her coming up the stairs, oh gullible me assuming she has brought along a diaper, I watch her sit comfortably on the top step only to say, “Maybe later”. It was as if she was getting a front row seat to the show, the only thing she was missing was popcorn. So I look at my good little boy who was perfectly content in his nakedness and I will him with all of my silent subconscious super mom powers to not let the cool air stir any need to release all over my work clothes as I hop over his sister and down the stairs to the safety of the diapers. And so begins my Wednesday morning.

When did my little helper become so joyously defiant in her ways? When did my requests turn into an invitation to challenge her loving mother? I’m in the midst of asking a question when a resounding, “No” interrupts the words that are coming out of my mouth. She has even mastered the art of balling her fists and making this sound, sort of a cat-like growl just for dramatic effect. Particularly, and the timing I must say is award winning, after I’ve raised my voice to her older brother Calvin. All of this behavior tends to be followed with a sweet little smile, a quick hug and squeaky little voice that says, “Momma, I love you”. 

Even her one-liners are enough to make me pause. After walking into the bathroom, I look at her sitting pleasantly on the toilet and say, “are you done, did you go to the bathroom” and with all seriousness, she responds “no, maybe next week”.  To which I contemplate adding some Miralax to her yogurt.

She is stubborn and willful and in every way a very quick study. Listening to her call Carson, “Boo-Boo” in her baby voice and say things like “Ooohh Carson, why are you mad” is like listening to myself on a recorder.  She’ll go into Calvin’s room and wave her finger at him and say, “Calvin, stop being fresh”. And poor Calvin has such a fit. He asked me once, “What if Maisie has ADD to?” to which I responded, “I’ll move out”. I’m glad he found it funny.

No, there is a clear difference between a child with ADD and a 3 year old ninja. When Calvin was 3, he was so instinctively reactive that going out in public was a rarity. Yes, I know, most 3 year olds are instinctively reactive. Passing a candy bar at the store voids out all rules that applied prior to walking into that store. With Calvin, however, I had to make very specific rules like, mommy is going to the store to buy you a red notebook and then we will go visit Mimi and Grumpy. I would bring a timer or a toy that he hadn’t played with in a while and we would play games like, I spy. If I didn’t buy a red notebook, if I went somewhere else first or if I decided not to go at all I was guaranteed a 3 hour meltdown.

Maisie, well she’s a whole other species. I truly believe that upon waking up in the morning she makes a mental list of things that tick mom off just to check them off throughout the day. She does this thing where she repeats herself very loudly over and over and over, I particularly enjoy it when she does it at church. She agrees to all of your threats, “I will take away your doll if you continue to yell”, “you will not get a snack when we get home” or “you will have to take a nap when we get home”. She obsesses over her request and giving into her only presents the opportunity to obsess over another request. And by the time you get home, she’s on her best behavior and quite understandably blindsided to have no snack, no toys and why is she going down for a nap? This only welcomes a second wave of obsessions and more reprimands.  And without saying anything, I can hear her voice inside my head saying, “this is all your fault”. By the end of the day, I’ve won the Mother of the Year Award, I’m exhausted and she’s now plotting out the next day of events. She emits this monsoon of emotion with complete disregard to her surroundings and, conveniently, only when we’re out in public. Luckily enough, I have three children now and my ability to disregard my surroundings exceeds her desire to yell and cry at the drop of a dime. My only saving grace, a time out chair is not necessary for time outs. If there is a bathroom, there is a corner and we will stay in that bathroom until (a) moody has learned how to use her quiet voice, (b) we pack up and leave with nothing, no one wins or (c) church is over.

It is a battle and she seems to have her wits set on me. When we sit at the dinner table and she takes a sip of her milk and lets it sit in her mouth with her cheeks puffed out staring at me…willing me to say something, Adam and Calvin quickly find a spot on their plate of food avoiding the lasers that are apparently coming out of my eyes.   

Her teacher’s praise her behavior, her friends give her hugs when she arrives at school and again when she leaves for the day, her grandparents tell me she sleeps all night when they keep her on Thursday’s. To all of which I’m so thankful, jealous, but so thankful.

 Someone said to me, “maybe she enjoys your attention”. Oh no, I believe she just enjoys tormenting me. It’s trial and error really. I had one child with a very challenging and very special gift and I blindly assumed that I knew everything about having children. And then God said, “I’m giving you a girl”. People always told me that girls were easier and yet since I’ve had her, everyone has changed their story. There was no warning and there are no books to prepare for it. However, I’m pretty sure she got the cliff notes on Calvin’s childhood, studied them, found the loop holes and is now mastering the art of driving mom up a wall. I applaud her spirit, I applaud her drive and I even applaud that mischievous little spark in her eye. She makes sure that every single day of our lives is an eventful one. I love you Ms. Maisie Moo.