“Bean, did you go potty?”

Simple question, right? The Hubs asked the Bean that after she and I had gotten done brushing her teeth before bed.

“Yes, Daddy.”

(Me) “You did not, I was standing in the bathroom with you the whole time!”

“Oh”

We’re noticing more and more that the Bean is lying to us.  I know it’s completely developmentally normal- I even know that it’s a good milestone for her to hit. We want her to lie to us- it shows complex brain development and the ability to react on the fly.  But..it doesn’t make it any less crazy.

I want to sit down and tell the Bean, that yes, we’ll always know when you used the potty (not hard to check the bowl, sister) and we’ll know if you washed your hands (that soap has a strong smell).  We’ll know if you brushed your teeth with one sniff of your breath and we’ll know if you really cleaned up your room with a quick glance. Each time we catch her in a lie, she looks at us like we’re geniuses and all we can do is not laugh at her. I’m hoping if she thinks we’re all seeing and all knowing now, she’ll just give up.

A mother can dream…

There are days when I feel like I’m pretty damn good at this parenting thing.

Then there are days like today.

Last night the Bean woke up twice in the middle of the night saying her ear hurt.  The first time I got her to take her Tylenol without much fuss so this morning when it was time to dose her up before school I figured it wouldn’t be a big deal.

I am an idiot.

I first offered her the little cup to drink her medicine out of (grape flavored medicine she said she loved last night, mind you!). She wouldn’t have anything to do with it.  She flat out refused to even take 1 measly sip of the 1 tsp of medicine.  Fine- we’re pressed for time, so I put it into those medicine syringes and to give it to her.  It’s worked in the past- just get it in as far back as you can in her mouth and blow on her face while pushing in the plunger to make sure she’s swallowing. Easy peasy.

2 minutes later, the Bean is in the shower and I’m changing all my clothes because she spit every bit of that 1 freaking fracking tsp of medicine back out. She’s got it coating her neck and all in her hair and I’m wearing the rest of it on my clothes.  So much for getting to school on time- not happening with an hysterical 3 year old in the shower, a ticked off Mom scrounging for clean clothes and 5 year old who can’t stop laughing over the craziness.

So..the Bean finally gets showered and I’m dressed. We’re back to square 1.  I know her ear hurts because she keep cradling it, so she needs to have medicine before school. Period.  Now I just needed to figure out how to get her to drink it.

I tried explaining to her what was what- that she needed the medicine to make the boo-boo in her ear stop hurting.  She didn’t care.

Then I flat out told her- drink the medicine or else.  (Or else what, I have no idea. The kid doesn’t care if you put her in time out, take away her toys or ban her from the TV- she has no kryptonite as far as we can tell).  The Bean is not impressed.

Finally, it was time to bribe her.  Her weakness of choice? The forbidden fruit- soda. The watered-down dredges of our soda when we’re out to eat is the best thing ever according to the Bean, so I figured to be offered a few sips of her very own soda would be something she’d jump on.

I figured wrong.

It wasn’t until I sweetened the deal with the promise of donuts on the way to school that she finally, finally slugged that 1 tsp of medicine. That’s parenting at it’s finest right there.

*~*~*~*~

An afternoon trip to the doctor’s confirmed that Beaner does have an ear infection. That meant tonight before bed, I had to give her 2 medicines.  I’ll let you guess how well that went.

Sometimes I forget that the Bean is a girl. From day 1, Scorch’s stuff- the dinosaurs, super heroes, truck and cars- have dominated our house. That’s just the way it goes since he’s older. Most of the time it doesn’t dawn on me to buy anything girly-girl for the Bean. The only reason this child has a tea set or Barbies is thanks to friends or family.

Most of the time, that’s just fine. Beaner wants to do what ever her big brother and his friends are doing. She doesn’t want to dance, she wants to play soccer! She’s happy to wear as much pink as you want to dress her in as long as she’s got on her sneaker so she can run. Her two BFFs at school are boys- even though I see the girls in her class trying very hard to be friends with her.

So you can imagine my surprise when the Bean came home yesterday and told me she got married to her BFF. She said it was her idea, so they two of them got married on the playground during recess. So very glad I dressed her in her nicest jeans- I’m hoping someone took a few pictures for the family album.

The Hubs is just hoping it wasn’t a true shotgun wedding.

I may have mentioned a time or two that the Bean has a forceful personality.  She may only weigh 27 lbs, but heaven help you if you cross her.  Thankfully, bed time has become a much more pleasant time for us after a few weeks of sheer misery.  That said, one of the ways I’ve achieved this peace is by indulging Beaner in a few of her requests.  Frankly, it’s easier to give into the little things then battle her for 45 minutes over something so tiny.  So things have been going swimmingly until this week…

You see, this week I started Bootcamp classes.  I have aches in muscles I didn’t know I had.  Getting up off the couch takes time, I groan when I walk up the stairs and I vigorously swear at the class’s instructor in my head when I get out of bed.  Of course this is the time when Beaner’s requests have gone from “Can I go potty one more time?” to “sit on my lap Mommy so I can sign you a song!”  Have you ever tried to balance your body to “sit” on a 3 year old’s lap in a moving rocking chair (because the chair has to rock because it rocks when I sing to her)?  It ain’t easy.

That wasn’t even the worst part- the kicker came when it was time for me to sing to her.  Normally she sits on my lap on the rocker while we go through our 4 song medley.  But oh no- not tonight. It’s like she knows that I’m dying and wants to put the screws to me.

“Mommy, lay on the floor so I can lay on you and you sing to me.”

I did a quick mental debate in my head- was the agony I’d experience actually getting my body on the floor worse then the agony I’d deal with when I refused and the Bean lost her mind for 45 minutes? I decided to suck it up and gingerly, slowly, got down on the ground.  I admit, I moaned a few times in the process.  But I did it and told the Bean to lay down so we could sing.

“Actually Mommy, I want to rock in the chair.”

Sometimes I think the Bean just likes to screw with me.