Attention seeking missile

I have no idea what I did when I was a four year old with a baby sister, looking all cute and sweet and delicious as she was, to get attention.  But I seriously hope I was not working the moves that Lily has going on.  While I stress on a regular basis because I was once a four year old with a cute and sweet and delicious baby sister, that both girls are wonderful and special and precious and valuable to me, Lily is determined to win my attention by any means necessary.  And today, that meant urinating on the floor in her room, through her underpants and then coming to tell me, "I have no undy-bundies because I peed in my room because I didn't remember where the bathroom was and I am...(wait for it)...really sorry."  Say what?  Excuse me?  You didn't remember where the bathroom was? 

I walked outside.  Of the house.  To regroup.  She was looking at me through her bedroom window crying for me to come inside and give her a hug.  I told her, with my lips snarled and my teeth clenched in a position only a mother with TMJ could assume, that I needed a minute to think because I was so angry I was purple.  This, of course, brought her to tears but seriously, am I not expected to be peeved out of my face?  I had just put Virginie down for a late nap.  Lily had spent a good time with two of her girlfriends swinging and running in the mud, and jumping on the beds in her room with muddy feet, and laughing and playing and swinging some more, only minutes earlier.  Had she taken some peyote and actually forgotten that her bathroom was right next to the room in which she had chosen a corner to pee?  Oh, wait, no.  She is four years old. 

This incident is just one in a series of late where Lily does something completely outlandish and ridiculous and then says she is really sorry and requires a hug for her transgression before I even get the chance to fully understand what has taken place.  Drawing on her sheets in gold marker.  Writing on the wall.  Leaving the refrigerator open.  Washing her body with a washcloth and then using that same cloth to wash the wall, the floor of the shower, or better the toilet.  Refusing to give toys, pacifiers, whatever to Virginie.  Telling on Virginie for doing A, B, C to her and then crying because I do not punish the little thing. 

I tell both girls, all the time, that I love them and that they do not have to show off for me.  That they can just be their curious little selves without having to impress me because I am already impressed.  I know it is difficult for Lily as Virginie right now still demands so much of my attention.  Virginie is still a baby.  Still needs diaper changes.  Still needs a cuddle or two to convince her of certain things.  But I offer Lily the same number of cuddles.  The same of everything.  I am aware of her struggles for independence, street cred, and the need for Mommy's love and affection.  I know that I am home alone so much that it does seem like she needs to compete for the only adult in the house, rarely do we have two parents and two children together at the same time.  When we do, they just jump through fire hoops to get Didier to notice them. 

I have a target on my back.  Lily the attention-seeking missile is headed straight for me and though she drives me completely insane at times and the urine on the floor sent me screaming into the jungle to cool my jets, I love her madly.  I guess I just need to find a way to guide, show her how I love her without all the craziness, all the show, all the bad-attention-is better than-no attention attention.  I feel her pain and I remember it well.  Maybe going through this, I can heal us both.


(c)  Copyright 2010.  City Mom in the Jungle.