I went to pick up the boys at their dad's house yesterday, and my little mini-me decided that she wanted to come with me "to the brudders house" as she calls it. They live a short 30 minute drive away, so I get some good music time (and talking time) with the munchkin if I take her along. We discuss rhyming words, and numbers, and philosophy (stranger danger, the benefits of doing what Mommy tells you do to, and my tried-and-true favorite: how much she likes/hates pizza and has always liked/hated pizza at any given moment.) And no road trip would be complete without singing chick songs (Lady Gaga is currently her favorite, but P!nk is a close second.)
She has a new stuffed animal she's carting around, and of course she had to bring it with her: "Snak-ee wants to come to pick up the brudders, too."
"Ok, bring 'Snak-ee' with you," I tell her. Anything to get her moving, I'm going to hit traffic, FCS! I finally got her in the car, and she told me that snak-ee needs buckled in too. "Well, snakes don't usually get seat belted, pumpkin. Just get your seat belt on, and Snakee can sit on your lap." I helped her with her belt (while she's bitching about 'Pumpkin' - "My name is not pumpkin Mommy, it's Diana!") then went around to start the car.
As I slid into the seat, I heard a *click* sound. "Got it!" she told me, and sure enough, the stuffed snake is secure in the middle seat in a seat belt. I'm buckling you in why? I thought to myself. If you can buckle the snake in, you can buckle yourself in! Whatever it takes, we're finally off.
She's usually particular about what music she wants to listen to, and she's absolutely not shy about voicing what's on her mind: "Mommy, make the music louder! Snak-ee wants to sing!"
"That's as loud as I'm putting it, my eardrums will explode!"
"You're ear-strums will explode Mommy?" she asked me with wide eyes. (Although I could barely hear her over the music.)
"Just sing your song, pumpkin."
"My name is not pumpkin, it's Diana!"
She has recently developed a dislike of nicknames in her strange pre-school brain. So of course, I have to use them at every opportunity, while she unknowingly evens the score with her loud singing: "You and me could write a bad romance!" screamed at the top of her lungs doesn't sound as great as you'd think. And I like that song! Or should I say 'liked.' No matter how much you enjoy a song, 1000 times later, it doesn't evoke the same joy, especially when performed by a four-year-old diva. Thankfully, she doesn't really understand the words, some of the songs she likes have words I really don't want her singing in public. Or in front of Nonna.
After her three songs are done, I turn it to the radio, and my little mini-me protests with, "I don't like this song, Mommy."
"I like this song, Pumpkin... Now don't cry, sweetie! Big girls don't cry, the song says so!" Ha! Take that! It's pouring on the highway, and I could easily hydroplane. If I go down, I'm doing it to MY music, not hers.
"My name is Diana, not sweetie! And sometimes big girls do cry, when girls' mommies play songs big girls don't like!" I swear she's going to grow up to be an attorney or something, the way she likes to argue. And she starts singing the rain song: "Rain, rain go away, come again some udder day...It's raining, it's pouring, the man in da moon is snoring, he had a cold when he went to bed, and didn't get up in the morning...rain, rain, go away, come again some udder day..." So I turned up my music to drown out her rain song...
We got to the town where my ex-husband lives, but their town was having a festival, which evidently can be held no fucking where else but the middle of their main thoroughfare, right through downtown! It's not like there's a second highway through here, assholes! You've blocked them all by blocking three roads! This ain't my first 'go round' on this festival merry-go-round though, and by now I know the ways to get around the 'main drag' close-out. I turned down a different road, with my munchkin still singing her 'rain song' while I'm cursing (fluently and loudly - what else did you think the loud music was for?) as I hit one-way streets one after another, all heading in the wrong direction. Yes, my ex moved to a town designed by a blind non-driving one-way-street-loving idiot, who evidently decided that closing all the roads around downtown twice a year would ensure that no one evet could leave. I think his last name was Stepford or something.
Then she stoped singing: "Mommy, I think that you are on the wrong path!"
Spiritually or physically, Pumpkin? "Listen, my little backseat-driver-wannabe, I know how to get to your brothers' house!" Grumble grumble... Now four-year-olds want to tell me how to drive! "Are you going to tell me how slow I'm going next?"
"What did you say, Mommy? I don't know any of these places, Mommy, this is the wrong way. Are you lost, Mommy? Snak-ee says this is not the right path, too."
"I've lost something pumpkin, but we're not lost. Just sing your song, we're almost there!" (And that fucking snake is going to kiss pavement soon, I can tell.) It's raining, it's pouring, the man in the moon is snoring.. "Diana, where did you hear that song?" I asked her when it had finally got to be too annoying, even for me.
"Little Bear sings it when it's raining, and it makes the rain go away... This is the right path, Mommy! This is the way to the brudders' house! There it is!"
"Yes, I know, sweetie," I told her, and stopped in front of my ex-husband's house. The boys got in the car (while she's loudly complaining, 'My name is not sweetie, it's Diana!') and started arguing right away. Evidently, my youngest was having a bad day, but didn't want to talk about it. Fabulous! "Diana, sing the rain song for the boys!"
"Rain, rain, go away, come again some udder day," she sings at the top of her lungs.
I drove away to a slew of Mooom! Make her stop! and I told them the facts: "Stop arguing, or I'll have her serenade us all the way home!"
My 16-year old not only 'gets it' right away, he 'gets around it' by flipping on the CD to her songs, so she stops the rain song and starts with 'Poker Face.' Peachy! At least the arguing stops, and then my oldest son directs me to another way to avoid the downtown blockage. And before you ask, no it's not quicker than the way we came in, but he's going to be driving soon, and if he wants me to go another way, I will. A good navigator is not born, he's made, and I've been trying to train this one for years. The one in the back seat, however...
"Mommy, are you lost again?"
"I wasn't lost before, and ... no, pumpkin, only my sanity is lost."
"I am not Pumpkin, I am Diana!"
"Just sing your song, alright?" Russian roulette is not the same without a gun... I think I'm on the right path...
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