Cupcake Day

Some days, things fall apart, and some days, things come together. Some days, things fall apart and come together in the same day. Today was that kind of day.

It started off well enough, but Julie knew things had taken a turn for Sigh, Really? Ville when Joe dashed off to the bambini's room with a gleam in his eye that meant, no, of course he was not going to change out of his pajamas and into school clothes the way he is supposed to every morning. Instead, he was going to tear back out into the living room to relocate the cupcake kitchen and all its contents hither and yon. Julie, in the big kitchen, doing the breakfast dishes (She is a self-starter! Leading by example!), thought to herself, "You've said it once. He knows what he is supposed to be doing. Ignore the unwanted behaviors. Acknowledge the ones you like." Probably about the time she was thinking the word "acknowledge," was about the time she heard Joe delightedly bellow, "And now I got to throw these on the floor!" These, Fans, would be the miniature utensils residing in the cupcake kitchen's drawer. Julie knows because by this time, she'd angrily stripped off her dishwashing gloves, flung them and the sponge into the sink, and stormed into the living room to announce she was going to count to five and if Joseph Trump wasn't in his room and beginning to get out of his pajamas by the time she got to five, then she would be doing it all for him. That's how Julie and Joe wound up in Joe's room with Julie removing Joe's pajamas, while he trashed around, wailing, and loudly informing him that tomorrow, he could make different choices if he didn't like how things were unfolding now. At one point, while he thrashed about, he was on the bed, and then, naturally, he fell off. It's a drop of only a foot, of course, but one would think Joe had plummeted from a second story window or some such.

Clara came in with a pretend orange and then beat a hasty retreat all, "This orange looks delish. I'm gonna go pretend to eat it in the living room."

So things sort of fell apart there.

By day's end, she had her game face back on. She left St. Paul at 4:02pm, and made it across town in record time. She pulled up to the KinderCare at 4:35pm, and headed inside to tell Our Hero that it was--A CUPCAKE DAY! She was met with a gasp of delight. Joe was so excited that he forgot he had to follow Julie down the hall to collect Birdie.

We met Graham, Connor, and Sara at Yum! for dinner, and Fans, the bambini were rockstars--ROCKSTARS! They sat calmly at the table while Julie ordered. They ate their macaroni and cheese and chicken fingers in happy companionship while making convivial conversational sallies. Joe kept his straw in his drink the entire time, and Birdie, most of the time. They stayed in their seats. In short, "restaurant behavior" abounded.

"Cupcake day!"

"I see you!"

By the time Julie and the bambini arrived at home, it was bath time. Joe quickly did away with the possibility of playing with bath toys, but Julie is pleased to say she delivered the news calmly and quietly, and Joe said only, "No!" with a pout to which Julie was already turning her back, which really took the wind out of those sails. Sadly, bubbles and "doing something" [while Clara was read to] were also dispatched in short order, but happily, again, Julie meted out the consequences calmly and quietly. Somehow, a major bambini uprising was quelled, at least this evening.

There was, however, an additional matter to discuss. Julie was told that Joe had some trouble following directions today. Apparently, "some trouble following directions" meant that he merrily followed the lead of a friend who was putting noodles on his fingers at lunch. Julie and Joe talked all about how there are times we play, and then there are times we eat, and covered off on which of the two breakfast, lunch, dinner, and snack time are--i.e. not times we put noodles on our fingers. Then Julie said something like, "Pal-o, you're going to have to learn to think, and decide for yourself what's right, and do the right thing.

That's life, Fans, right? It's the same when you're three deciding whether or not to put noodles on your fingers like your dopey friend is doing and when you're 35 trying to figure out what to tell your three-and-a-half-year-old son about noodles and fingers and friends and fun and life in a way that will make sense to him. In other words, it's hard. It's really very, very hard.

Julie stopped there thinking, "What are you saying????? Do the right thing????? What's next? Stand and deliver?????"

Then, she asked Joe what he was going to do tomorrow. She wasn't sure what he would say.

"Do the right thing."

Sometimes things come together.