Leggings and Hugs

It was the typical rush to get ready for school or work, depending upon the person, and out the door this morning.  Really, Dan and Cal had things under control and were ready to leave by the loosely targeted departure time calculated as this: T minus 7 minutes (to drop the kids off) minus 11 minutes (to drive to the train) minus 3 minutes (contingency).  But Ella and me?  Not so much.

One might think that, with two strong-willed, picky-dressing, temperamental (lunatic) kids under the age of six, I would have learned to give myself some time for the unexpected (or, even the expected but unpredictable).  But I continue to operate under this foolish estimation that I can be ready to leave in 20 minutes (I have… by myself… sometimes).  I set my alarm to factor in contingency for the unexpected (or expected but unpredictable), but I get up per the 20-minute plan.

So this morning, I had the pleasure of getting ready with Ella.  She needed help getting her clothes, so I had to take a break from my routine to help her.  She wanted to wear a dress?  I pulled out a dress for her.  It was a tank, so I threw in the rule that she needed leggings (what? I make up rules as I go), which she actually cooperated in selecting.  I announced I was heading back to my room to finish getting ready; and she followed me, her dress and leggings in her hands.

Once back in my bathroom and brushing my hair, I noticed Ella in the background with her hand “holding herself” and a painful look on her face.  This is the universal tell that a kid – certainly my kid -- has to go potty.

“Ella, do you have to go potty?” I asked her, really not asking her but being her trigger to actually head to the toilet.

She immediately ran to our toilet, turned so her buns were facing the toilet, started pulling down her undies, stopped and announced, “I have to go give Daddy a hug.”

She then pulled up her undies and scurried out of the room and downstairs to, I assume, give Dan a hug.

What?  I continued to get ready.

She returned maybe a minute or two later (I’m not really sure), used the potty and proceeded to get herself dressed.

I would love to be a thought bouncing around in Ella's head and seeing how other thoughts might affect me.  Clearly she had to go potty; but giving Dan, who was all the way downstairs, a hug before doing so?  I have no idea where that came from.  She didn't, either.  Maybe it's like my rule that she wear leggings if she's wearing a tank dress.  I like to think it's rooted in common sense, but...