Mischief Maker

I really wish I understood my kids-- what makes Allie so emotional (sometimes I wonder if I'm really raising a sixteen year-old in a four year-old's body), and why Sami insists on creating mischief. Everyone knows Allie struggles with logic, but not everyone realizes how much trouble our mild-mannered little Sami conjures up. Emptying drawers of toiletries, eating her toothpaste, drawing on the file cabinet with a tube of Chapstick, emptying an entire container of salt into the banana chair, drawing on her face with a highlighter. I'm sure there are many out there thinking that's "small time" compared to the disasters their own little dears make in their own homes, but for someone whose first child has really never felt the need to get into trouble, this is torture!

My blood pressure probably shoots through the roof the minute I have to get in the shower. Please, Sami, don't get in to trouble. Then I call for her every few minutes to see if she comes quickly. If not, I jump out, dripping wet, and yell through the house until I find her. Usually I just find her looking at a book. I always figured Mom's shower time would be the prime time to make trouble, but I realized something. Most of the mischief occurs in my bathroom, so if I'm in there, I've taken away her Resort O' Fun. Most of the time, she gets me when I've turned on a movie in the afternoon, a time when Allie's quiet and when I'm busy. Then I realize Sami's quiet, too-- bad sign. Take today, for example...

I had put in a Blues Clues video, which both girls began watching. About thirty minutes in, I realized Allie was in the living room alone. Sami was quiet and nowhere to be seen. Ah crud. You guessed it, my bathroom. Just the other day she had gotten into my makeup bag while I was gone and her dad was mowing the lawn. We had scolded her, but apparently she didn't learn her lesson. She sat on the floor of the bathroom, my makeup bag in front of her, her finger digging out the lipstick from the tube. I said, "Sami!" which startled her, and she cried, knowing she was busted. She looked up, and lipstick and concealer covered her lips (and tongue, I soon realized), and mascara surrounded one of her eyes (how does she not poke her eye out?). I cleaned her up, and told her what she did was naughty and that she would need to go in "time out." She did so with no fits, even without her precious blanket. But geez!

Are boys worse than this? At least I don't have to worry about them stealing my makeup... I hope.