We like to think that we're experts when it comes to our children. We know what they love, what they hate. We know how to motivate them and how to get under their skin. We don't know shit. We THINK we know. Genevieve's favorite animal fluctuates from what's in front of her in that moment: Bear, Giraffe, her sister. Arianna has 100 "favorite" movies. They all seem to love what ever ice cream we have in the freezer at that moment the most. And yesterday was a perfect example of how wrong my assumed knowledge of my kids can be. The girls had a field trip to Sea World (I know, I know - Blackfish. ... I'm sorry) so I took off work to tag along. Everything went swimmingly (that's right, I punned it just now) until the end of the adventure when the girls wanted to spend some time on the massive play structure. Like massive massive. ... really. Arianna was running across a bridge about three stories up when she yelled down at me that she had to tisza (pee). I told her to hurry down the stairs so we could go. She said she wanted to slide one more time. I told her "no"; she didn't listen and ran for the slide instead. Then. ... she stopped. Here's where I failed in my knowledge:
1) I thought my kids could hold it for one more exhibit before we pottied on the way out
2) I thought my kid could hold it long enough to make it down the stairs
3) I thought my kid was 100% potty trained. ... so no back up clothes are needed anymore.
We made our get away from the park with Arianna sporting a hoodie sweatshirt for a diaper. Thank god we got to park in the back as part of field trip.
Second incident, same day: Went to tuck the girls in around 11:30 before hitting the rack myself. Went to Genevieve's bed first, reached down to the foot of the bed to grab the sheets and in the pitch black I felt a head of hair. Not uncommon, Genevieve will move around alot in her sleep. I prepare to turn her right side up when I notice a full head of hair already resting on the pillow. How cute! Arianna has crawled in to bed to snuggle with her sister. ... but which one is which?! Aha! I know my kids. Arianna has a slightly up turned, button nose, so in the dark I gently run my finger across the face. Arianna! I scoop her up, standing tall and prideful in my knowledge of my children, even in dark. I lay her in to bed just as Gina comes in the room to do her midnight kisses. I look at my wife, exuding pride (the 7 deadly sin pride, not the good pride) just as "Arianna" sits up and whispers in my ear with Genevieve's voice "Daddy, what are you doing?" Shit! I got the wrong kid. "Go back to sleep honey, everything's fine". ... just be glad we didn't have identical twins or one of you would have had to get a tattoo.