After opening eyes and falling back asleep, opening eyes and falling back asleep, Helena finally responded to my urging of getting her out of bed. (My bed, of course, since she hasn't spent more than three full nights in her room without crawling under the covers with me in the middle of the night. Sometimes this includes rampant sleep-talking and attempting to open the locked doors to the backyard before realizing she is already in my room. Sometimes I'm not even aware she has hoisted herself up onto the bed and I will wake up startled by a silhouette hovering over me. Jordon will tell you how unnerving it can be.) However, I digress...
The morning consisted of about 15 attempts to get Helena dressed over the course of 15 minutes, before I finally dressed her myself in two. Once she had her school clothes on, it came time for putting on socks and shoes. This went on for another five minutes before she complained she couldn't find socks. Now, I don't know about most of you with kids, but to me, there is not much worse than sorting through about a billion tiny minuscule little Helena socks. For some reason, when you run them through the washer and dryer, they multiply. But never reproducing the same sock. No... you'll end up with about 87 unmatchable socks with little to no chance of recovering their mates. It's a hopeless existence.
Somehow, I managed to find two cute, clean, matching socks that were clearly resting on the top of the pile in her drawer. She should have seen them easily, but we all know how kids "look" for things. Regardless, I gave her the socks and, as usual, there was a reason to not put them on.
"They're too little!" she whined.
I countered with, "They're supposed to be little. They make some socks little, so that when you wear skinny jeans – like what you have on – it won't be hard to get them on. Sometimes it's hard to get long socks on under skinny jeans."
Little Helena paused and thought about this for a moment and decided to agree. She plopped down on the carpet in her room and began to put on the pink polka-dotted little socks. Once I saw she was on board, I began to leave the room to finish getting ready myself, and my exit was complemented with
"You're right, I can fit them with my jeans! Mom, you're a genius!"
From the bathroom, as I finished applying my eyeliner, I could hear her velcro-ing her shoes and still repeating, "You're a genius!" It took me a few times of her saying it before I realized what she was actually saying
"JEAAAAAN-ius"
Gah! She has Dad's sense of humor.
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