Mere Mortal

One of my favorite parts of parenting tiny humans is that they genuinely think you're the most amazing being there is. There's nothing you can't fix, you know everything, and generally you're all that and a bag of peanuts.

And then they grow up and figure out that you're just as clueless as all of the other people on earth and WELP. Alexis was probably 8 years old the first time she muttered, "Why am I asking you?" when she realized I was totally deflecting instead of recommending how she could solve a problem.

I had a good run with that kid. It's true.

And now there's Mila. Mila, she of many opinions, has decided to rage at the sun. THE SUN. Of all the things in this universe to get mad at, she has chosen the sun. She is mad at it for existing, then she's mad at it for being in the wrong place, and then she's madder and madder at it because "THE SUN IS IN MY EYES." I'm waiting for her to scream "KILL IT WITH FIRE!" because I think she might.

And then I'd have to explain that you can't kill fire with fire and that doesn't sound like any fun.

Instead of explaining combustion to a 2-year old, I hand her a pair of sunglasses and tell her to deal. The sun is allowed to be where the sun wants to be. I tried that explanation yesterday and was told, "TURN IT OFF!" so obviously Mila totally understands my point.

Today, though, today was the day when I disappointed my 2-year old. Today Mila raged at the sun for existing, and then she raged at it because it was shining in her eyes. I handed her sunglasses and all of that, but she threw the sunglasses at me.

Mila is a thrower. It's a fact.

Then Mila straight-up demanded that I move the sun. She yelled, "MOVE THE SUN, MOMMA!" at least fifteen times. I started to just plain ignore the rant because I am a terrible human being and own that fact, but Mila wanted to rub it in some more. "MOVE IT. MOVE IT. MOVE IT."

And then she fell silent. She thought for a moment then quietly, in an almost whisper, added, "Please. Momma please move it."

And I couldn't.

The child used her manners exactly as I have told her to do a million times and I couldn't move the sun so that it wouldn't shine in her eyes.

Two years. It took me two years for Mila to figure out I'm not all powerful.

Comments

[Mary]

This the most precious and the saddest thing all at the same time. I remember those moments with my niece and nephews. I bet you didn't want anything more than to be able to move the sun. I know I did.