2 parts angel, 1 part devil

Just 3 little Ari stories...

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Ari woke up from her nap yesterday sobbing... and inconsolable for a good 15 minutes or so. Every so often, this happens, and I'm not sure why. Our best guess is that she wakes up "by mistake" and isn't fully rested.

Once her hiccupy sobs had subsided, I took her downstairs. She asked for a cereal bar, so I gave her one, filled her sippy cup with juice, and sat at the computer with her on my lap. I went to YouTube and looked up one of her favorite videos: a clip from Sesame Street where India.Arie sings the ABCs with Elmo. She sat quietly all through the video, and when it was done, she said, "Birdhouse?"

"You want to watch the birdhouse video?" I asked, surprised. It's been a long time since we've watched that one.

"Yes," she replied, and I typed "Birdhouse in Your Soul" in the search box. I half-expected her to declare "All done" a few seconds into the video, as Little Miss Short Attention Span tends to do, but she enjoyed the whole thing, even happily pointing out the bikes to me.

We spent the next several minutes looking at different videos. I stayed with the They Might Be Giants theme, playing several of their podcasts that featured kids' songs. Ari sat nearly motionless on my lap, leaning back against me instead of leaning forward eagerly like she usually does.

I know moments like that are rare. So maybe that's why I turned into a big old softy and gave in when she asked for M&Ms for dinner.

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The bedtime battle with Ari continues, and has now stretched itself into mornings. This morning, when I got out of the shower, she was up. We went a couple rounds of me asking her nicely to get back into bed, and her shutting the door and (supposedly) complying, and worked our way up to me being very stern and her turning on the fake drama-queen tears. Finally, I had to leave for work. I said goodbye to her, with one last order for her to get into bed, then headed downstairs.

Of course, it took me a couple minutes to gather up my things, and I could hear her shuffling around upstairs, obviously out of bed once again. I just sighed and decided to let it go--I was leaving anyway.

Then a loud, earnest little voice from upstairs called out, "I love you!"

I smiled as my heart melted a little--there's nothing like a completely unprompted declaration of love. "I love you too," I called back. Then, I couldn't resist adding, "Now get back in bed."

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Yesterday at church, Kerry and I were chatting before the service started--we were talking about church-related stuff and then transitioned into comparing stories about our girls (her daughter, Molly, is about 6 months younger than Ari). Our conversation was interrupted by a man from our church coming up to us and telling us, "I just wanted you to know--they're fine now, and someone's cleaning them up--but the girls were in the men's room, playing with the soap dispensers and playing in the urinals."

"Wait--our girls?" I replied, a bit dumbfounded.

"Yes," he replied, smiling as he walked away.

Kerry and I just looked at each other, both thinking the same thing--how did they even get the door open?

Brandon (Kerry's husband), who was sitting nearby, pointed his finger dramatically at me and teased, "I blame your kid!"

"Hey, Molly is pretty strong," Kerry countered.

"Yeh, but she couldn't possibly be strong enough to open the door alone, could she? I bet they worked together," I said. We laughed as we pictured them working as a little pint-sized team to push open the bathroom door.

After church was over, we inadvertently solved that mystery. Ari disappeared on us right before we left, and after a few minutes of slightly-frantic searching, we found her... (can you guess?) ...in the men's bathroom, sitting on the floor with the soap dispenser, happily squirting soap on herself and the floor.

I keep saying that Ari and Molly are "partners in crime"... so now we know that Ari is the brute strength of the team. I guess that makes Molly the brains?