Pick Your Battles

These days it seems like Hayden is all about pushing our buttons. Come to think of it, the same could be said (in alternate moments) about Delaney.

What they want to wear, or don't want to wear...

what they want to drink (Pellegrino or Perrier), out of what type of cup...

which version of the Doggie Movie (old or new) do they want to watch (at least, as Heather notes, we are out of the Elmo stage)...

and whether there is Winnie-the-Pooh-Bear or (god forbid) Big Bird on the BACK of the diaper that's being proposed.

"Me Bear!!!!" Hayden will shriek if he spies a feathered yellow giant making its way to his bum. "Where Me Bear?" And then we dissolve in tears and refuse any pants whatsoever, forever redefining the "boxers or briefs" debate.

All of this has led me to ask: Are we offering too many choices? Are we too lenient with the sparkling agua? Are we the only parents allowing them to watch movies while they eat? (Yes, I confess we've fallen into that very bad habit. Not sure how to get out of it, so please leave any advice below as a comment.)

At the end of the day we are exhausted with the struggle. Two two-year-old wills are just too many. As we pick up the countless blue w/ blue top, pink w/ yellow top, yellow w/ orange top cup-combos containing the day's worth of Blue Juice, Green Agua, Tea (not really), Nup (milk) or Oranshe Juz, we understand how paper cups came to be invented. If only they could drink from them without spilling it down their fronts.

We realize how helpless we are to know which trigger is going to be "the big one." We watch with amazement as an offer of cottage cheese is met with "no no no Mama, go-gurt!"

So we were very surprised by "the big one", the 7.3 earthquake last month. And the one this morning, a 5.3 in La Ceiba. And the removal of the Honduran president on Sunday, for (among other Very Bad Things) illegally wanting to re-write the country's constitution so that he can remain in power beyond his term.

Some "big ones" shake more than others. In this house, the perfect storm involves just the wrong drink at just the right moment. In Central America, it seems to have been brewing a long time.

We're on high alert, despite it being way past bedtime. We'll count our sippee cups and rule in favor of the people, whatever color agua that turns out to be today. May the same be true for Honduras this week.

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