I had one of the most enjoyable parenting moment ever yesterday. In order maintain some sort of guise of anonymity I will refer to my offspring as the youngest in the family does. The elder daughter is named "Baba" and the younger refers to herself as "Baby."
So Baba and Baby were particularly naughty yesterday. Baba drew on the walls with a pencil, a pencil I sharpened for her no less, and Baby added red marker to the mix. Where was I? Scrubbing the crayon off the walls in their room.
Baba tried to pin the blame on Baby alone, but since she was holding the pencil, and I sharpened it for her, I jumped on that like ocean view property in Arizona. Baby kept pointing to the wall and yelling "Baba." So they both got wall scrubbing duties. And then were sent to bed.
Baby, not yet being two, thought this was unbelievably cruel. And voiced her opinions, for about an hour. I kept putting her in bed, she kept getting out. It got quiet, and then the phone rang. I was puzzled for a moment, since it was me calling me. Or my cell phone calling my home phone. (I use my cell phone as an alarm clock) So, Baby, not satisfied with being contained in her bed, decided to mess with stuff in my room. Well, this could be fun. And it was.
I answered the phone, which was promptly dropped on the other side. So I said "Baby, what are you doing?" There was no answer. "Baby, why are you playing with Mama's phone?" No answer. "Baby, you get into bed right now!" That produced screams and tears and yelling. And other odd sounds. More yelling and crying. "Baby, you get into bed and you stay there." More outrage. I thought I should hand up my cell phone so I walk into my bedroom.
Baby was sitting on my bed, pointing to the phone and going off on me. (the only discernible word in her yelling was Mama) I hung up both. My cell phone was laying upside down on the nightstand, and Baby was clearly upset that she had been busted.
Knowing that Mama had eyes everywhere, Baby stayed in bed and took a nap.