Mommy Memories

GavinsRainCoatThis is the second time in my life that I’ve had the pleasure of contending with a two year old on a day to day basis. I love it but it’s tough sometimes. Every now and then I’m given a hard situation that, on hindsight, will be one of the funny memories I’ll keep close to me forever. My super awesome two year old, Gavin, handed me one of those moments last weekend and I find myself thinking of it now with a chuckle.


Here’s a little history in the situation:

Gavin somehow managed to get home with a Barbie doll several weeks ago that was probably close to 20 years old. Some random little girl had outgrown it and left it behind. To him it wasn’t exactly a Barbie, but more of an ‘action figure’ from one of his favorite TV shows. He referred to her as “Princess P.” I didn’t think much about it…he’s two…..girl toy….boy toy…what’s the difference at that age?

Anyway…

Last Saturday morning, I went into Gavin’s room to get his day started to find him sitting in the middle of his bed. “Princess P., Mama!” flew out of his mouth and he pointed to the Barbie laying naked with no arms in the middle of his bedroom floor. “Arms gone, Arms gone! What to do? What to do?” became the chant and I soon realized it would be chanted over and over again until Princess P was reunited with her arms…and her dress.

For the nearly twenty minutes that followed, this chant when on. I thought my ears would bleed. I searched absolutely everywhere for her severed arms. I asked him where they were and he just kept chanting.

 

“Arms gone, Arms gone! What to do? What to do?”

 

I looked through books and stuffed animals and toy boxes. I searched under the bed and behind the dresser.

 

Arms gone, Arms gone! What to do? What to do?”

 

Finally I found, the left arm in the corner between the bookcase and the wall. It was obvious to me that he had ripped them off and thrown them.

 

“Arms gone, Arms gone! What to do? What to do?”

 

I moved the bookcase to look behind it, but still no right arm. I searched his room inch by inch and finally in the opposite corner of the room, under Chuck the Dump Truck, I found the right arm!

 

“Arms gone, Arms gone! What to do? What to do?”

 

I feverishly began cramming arms into tiny little sockets and tried not to pop them back off in the process of shoving her back into her princess dress.

 

“Arms gone, Arms gone! What to do? What to do?”

The moment the Velcro reattached on the back of her dress and just short of my skin falling off my bones, the chanting stopped. All was once again well with the world.

I took a deep breath and sat in the floor with him to have a talk about respecting our “friends” and how we shouldn’t rip their limbs off to throw to the far corners. That’s just not what friendship is all about. I can only hope the lesson he took from that day was something more than: “Chanting the same thing over and over, makes Mommy move really fast and get things done!”

 

What lessons has your child taught you lately?

 

 

(Originally posted on August 28, 2012.)

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