sticky fingers.

In a fuzzy first memory, I was about three or four years old and in line at the grocery store with my mom. I wanted a pack of Hubba Bubba bubble gum. My request was denied. However, for some reason I longed so badly for that bubble gum, I slipped a pack into the breast pocket of my pink Izod polo shirt and smuggled that little prize back to my bedroom. I must have known I had done something wrong because I jammed every last piece into my mouth and stashed the wrappers under my bed. Of course, I got caught & I believe my mom made me take the wrappers back to the store and apologize.

Fast forward thirty years. We are at my parents' house one evening to feed their cat while they are out of town. Emme and Delaney are allowed to have ice cream and a cookie while I tend to the feline duties. Once the girls are done with dessert and Buddy (the 20+ lb. cat) is taken care of, I attempt to round up the troops to head home for bed.

Instead of putting on her jacket, Emme heads to a little drawer in the kitchen where she has discovered a stash of left over Christmas chocolates. She fetches two shiny, foil wrapped coins out of the drawer and begins to hand one to Delaney and open the other for herself. I remind Emme that they just had dessert and the candy would have to wait for the next visit. Minor problem, Delaney now knows about the chocolate and is confused why Emme handed it to her and now I am taking it away. In an attempt to avoid a double melt down, I split one of the chocolates and offer each of the girls a half.

Unfortunately, Emme is not satisfied. She is exhausted and poised for an argument. She begins to open the second chocolate coin. Again, I tell her no more sweets. Her face screws up and she begins to blow. She is on the floor refusing to come home with us. She will not put on her coat. She is just going to stay at Nan Nan & Pop Pops because mom is "so mean". Okay, fine.

Clay leaves to start the car. I pick up Delaney and tell Emme to have a nice night and walk out to the garage.  We buckle Delaney in her car seat, all the while waiting for Emme to emerge from the house. She doesn't. Clay heads back in to get her. She meets him at the door. Her coat is on. She has a bounce in her step. Her lips curl into a sneaky grin and her hands are shoved in her pockets. "Hi guys. I'm ready now," she says as she climbs into her seat.

I take notice that her right hand never leaves her coat pocket. That little stinker took the chocolate and is trying to hide it! I reach back to "fix her seat belt" and slip the candy out of her pocket. As we being the trip home I notice Emme is feverishly digging in her pockets and whispering, "Where is it?!" When I inquire what is it that she is looking for, at first she won't tell me. She says it's nothing. But the harder she searched, the more upset she got. I inquired again. She blurted out in a fit of tears, "Where is the chocolate coin?!" When I played along and told her I thought we left it back at Nan Nan & Pop Pop's, she got real mad. The entire 10 minute drive home, Emme howled and screamed that she wanted that chocolate. Clay & I had to muffle our giggles over the whole situation. I mean, sometimes, tantrums are just down right funny when you really look at it.

Anyway, we had a little chat before bed & Emme confessed that she knew it was wrong to take the candy, but she "really wanted it!" Tomorrow, when she opens her lunch box at school, she'll find that little foil wrapped  chocolate coin waiting for her. Stinker.

naked truth.

Clay & I have come to realize we are no longer the king & queen of our humble dominion. Our rule has been over thrown by two ladies who stand at half our height, but double the will and triple the energy.

This afternoon, Emme overheard a commercial advertising a movie that would be coming on in the evening. She took note and filed this info in her memory for later ... like at the dinner table. Our dinners have become quite amusing with Delaney's endless appetite, beckoning, "More?!" and Emme's constant chatter of reality mixed with the imaginary, "Okay guys, we are at a wedding. Delaney is the flower girl, I am the bride, and Mom & Dad, you guys are my guests." Clay & I exchange knowing looks across the table and grin because, really, we are okay with knowing we are not running the show these days.

Tonight, Emme decided to challenge us by declaring that she needed to know how many bites she needed to eat before she could be excused from the table. When I questioned her urgency, she declared that she needed to finish eating so she would not miss the movie that was coming on. I then asked her who said she could watch the movie? She told us that she had seen the movie before so she knew it would be okay. I agreed that the movie was okay, but reminded her that it was bath night and I thought it would be better if we skipped the movie and did extra books after her bath.

Emme ate her final bite of dinner and gently placed her fork on her plate. She folded her arms in front of her and looked from Clay to me. She stated, matter of factly, that she really did not think that she needed a bath and that it would be a better idea to watch the movie instead. Clay sat back in his seat and gave me a look that seemed to say, "This one is all yours!"

I told Emme I understood she would like to watch the movie, but that we probably wouldn't have time because of her bath. She torn out of her chair and down the hall to her room. Her door slammed shut. We braced ourselves for an Emme-tantrum spectacular. Instead, a few seconds later we heard her door fling open and her quick footsteps headed back toward the kitchen. She appeared in the doorway, stark naked, "I'm ready for my bath! Let's get a move on! I have a movie to watch!"

beautiful.

All good things must come to an end. This morning at 5:45am Clay's alarm sounded, "WHAA! WHAA! WHAA!" My eyes slapped open and my body went stiff. My ears straining to hear the slightest sound of morning wake in one of the girls' monitors.

Typically, our kids are not game for lazying mornings. However, while Clay was home on "vacation" for the holidays, our little lovelies did not rise before the sun had fully graced the day. A true Christmas miracle in its self. Still, each morning, I'd wake at 5:45am and wait - not a tousle of a sheet, no creak from a mattress, no crib side clanking like a dinner bell, "Ma, Maaammm, Maaammm-EEEE!". 

Just peace and quiet. Ahh-mazing.

Alas, normalcy returned just as the sun shared its first peek of light this morning. Delaney beckoned first, "Maaammmm-Ahh?!"  Yep, we were back in action. Let the party begin. I switched off Delaney's monitor and grabbed Emme's then shuffled down the hall to fetch the littlest one. Just as Delaney & I had nestled into the rocker for an early morning cuddle, I hear rustling from Emme's bed. "Mom! I! Want! You!" The finale. Back to life as usual.

My head is fuzzy. All I want is a cup of coffee.

Delaney and I shuffle to Emme's room. As I crack open her door and peer inside, she looks up, sees Delaney is in tow, and per usual, scowls, and buries her face in her pillow. Delaney squirms and shimmy's down my side and climbs onto Emme's bed. She flops her body beside her big sister and giggles, "Em." 

Usually Emme would whine that she doesn't want Delaney in her room and she wants just mom. Not pretty, but it has become routine. This morning, however, Emme slipped one arm out from under her covers and cupped Delaney's cheek in her hand, "Good morning, beautiful." 

It was a good day.