She’s never been one to be shy. At all. She makes herself known, always talking, yelling, something.
She also doesn’t listen. Like, at all. Not one bit.
I take that back. She has selective hearing. Just today she hit Luca and sat on his Lego box, keeping him from continuing on his building adventure. Luca, being extremely passive, sat there and cried about it. “Mooooooom! Mae hit me! And now she’s sitting on my Lego box!”
It’s the end of the world as we know it.
So of course, while this is going on, I’m feeding Audrey. So I say, “Mae, come here.”
“Mae. Get over here now.”
“MAELIE JULIANNE, GET YOUR BUTT OVER HERE.”
I hate being told no, and mostly, I hate being told no by my kids. Frankly, they don’t get to. But Mae, being who she is and the third kid, a few things slip here and there when you’re ginormously pregnant and feel like becoming one with the couch rather than parent. Mae, and I only feel slightly bad for her, didn’t get the same iron fist parenting that Luca and Claire did. Luca’s listening skills are meh at best, but they’re still significantly better than Mae’s. Claire, well, she’s seriously the golden child in that arena.
So, I finished feeding Audrey and grabbed her by her little fist and made her stare at the wall. It amazes me, still, that she actually thinks she’ll get away with it. She gave me a defiant little look and I got down on her level, nose to nose and said, “You listen to me, kid, or you’ll find the age of two very difficult.”
She burst into tears, but obeyed.
Kid isn’t stupid.
She’s left Luca alone since then, and he’s sitting right in the front hall in the middle of everything.
I hope she got the point.
Matt and I are constantly saying how cute Mae is. How she’s such a ham, always giggling, and is generally sweet. We call her Mae the Tank because she’s build a lot like me, in that she’s solid, and very muscular. Especially for a two year old. She could bowl you right down if you’re not watching close enough. She has the biggest, brightest eyes and a very sweet smile.
But behind that smile is many ulterior motives and sneaky ideas and far too many times where it gets too quiet.
She’s my exact clone.
My mom said the other day having Mae around is almost like having a second chance at seeing me as a kid again.
I’ve already apologized profusely to Matt. However, in one of his many gushes on how Mae is this and Mae is that, I said, “You know why you enjoy her company so much, right? She’s exactly like me, and you chose me.”
It’s true. She’s so much like me it’s scary. Aside from the personality resemblance, when she comes around to my side of the bed first thing in the morning, the first thing I think is, “Wow, this face is familiar.” We very much look alike.
I call her my mini-me, for very obvious reasons.
It’s funny, when you have kids, and more than one, you really don’t have favorites, but you find things you like more about each kid and what you like least. With Mae, I love her infectious giggle and the fact that it’s like looking back into time.
But if that kid doesn’t start listening soon, she’s going to be staring at a lot of walls.
Not that I ever did that as a kid.