Diplomacy

I've discovered my true calling: diplomat.

My resume is impeccable; why, just this morning I've utilized the following skills:

1. overcoming the language barrier. When your 19 and a half month old sidles up to you first thing in the morning and says, "Buttface," she is not insulting your appearance or mental abilities. This is how she says "breakfast". When your almost 4-yr-old (next Tuesday!) says, "tu ta mommy chicken know", this means "I'm not your mommy, you're a chicken you know!" and to put on the movie Milo and Otis.

2. easing tensions between two warring factions. The two junior members of this society were both keen on possessing the same plot of Fisher Price farm ~ and all the animals ~ at the same time. Turn taking was instituted, although this was trumped by the youngest after about 15 minutes due to emission of an extremely high pitched shriek (almost, but not quite, out of the range of hearing ~ unfortunately) that caused big brother to clap his hands over his ears and run for the hills, thus leaving the farm wholly intact and all for Miss Ma'am. I'd like to think this moment of working it out for themselves was due to my influence, but I can't emit anything close to that frequency.




3. displaying environmentally friendly policies. I was able to teach my daughter that socks do not go in the toilet, nor are they flushed. I was also able to teach her that we don't put plastic key rings in the aquarium. Or forks. Or toy giraffes. (What is it about that poor giraffe? This thing seems to receive a significantly higher level of abuse than other toys.) I also proudly wait outside every morning for my dog to do his business, and pick it up in a baggie so it's not left in the yard. [Cheesy segment: This latest action may cause some buzz from the fly union, but I can withstand their lobbying tactics. They can beat against my windows from the outside as long as they want to. And if they get in the house, I also have many connections due to my diplomat status and can have them conveniently disposed of.]



4. cultural appreciation. In this society, we do not stand on toy keyboards. Or toy drums. There is a penalty for flagrant disregard of these rules. But if the junior members want to hit the "demo" button on the keyboard and try to sing along with "we wish you a merry christmas" 50,000 times in a row, I will not try to stop them until the 50,001 time ~ all to promote the other arts, of course. Likewise, I am teaching both junior members of my society that we don't eat crayons, markers, paper, playdoh, or chalk. (I'm a charter member of the ASPCAS ~ American Society for Prevention of Cruelty to Art Supplies). I have been successful with the elder of the two; still working on the youngest. A green crayon is the latest victim. There is ongoing training in this area, and I am learning other methods to employ that are much more effective.




5. providing food for those that don't have it. I made the ultimate sacrifice this morning and pulled leftover pancakes out of the ziploc in the fridge to feed the starving masses. Obviously they hadn't eaten for at least a week, and it felt good knowing they were finally sated. And quiet.

6. implementing basic hygiene education classes. I have instituted a program to teach washing of hands following bathroom trips and before meals, and that we don't eat our boogers no matter how appetizing they may look. We're still working on hair washing, as the elder one still hates it and I have to do "hand over hand" to get him to wash his hair. Brushing of teeth is usually twice a day for my son and once daily for the younger one. Both are learning not to eat the toothbrush.

7. providing effective communication and understanding to neighbors. When I was out with the dog this morning, my dear son was standing at the back door (which is glass) with his shirt up twisting his nipples, and his sister was standing right next to him, stripping out of her clothing and diaper. Of course that is the very moment my neighbor comes out their back door to walk their puppy. After an awkward silence, I cheerily said, "Good morning!" as I dragged my enormous hairball back to the porch and into the house. The neighbor, looking dazed, said, "Have a nice day!". This shows obvious people skills, as I actually got a verbal response other than the usual stare of disbelief.



I'm sure the fact that I was wearing a down coat, pajama pants, and huge, fluffy, leopard-print bedroom slippers at the time had absolutely nothing to do with the situation.



I'm sure I will have other opportunities to exercise these skills (and others) as the day progresses. But for now, I have to go implement some more of those hygiene skills. My daughter just walked past me with sagging pants, and she is rather odoriferous.