Hyde-ness

When Eva was first placed in my arms, she was a very serious newborn.

Life is serious, after all, and she knew it.

I remember her look of complete disapproval when I would reprimand Joshua for his pre-schooler misdeeds. It was sobering to see that kind of silent objection in a one-year-old.

She remained that way for a good two years.

Time passed...

And she learned some other behaviors that balanced her out. Or it could just be genetics.

She is a quarter Hyde, after all. I had hoped it was recessive, but apparently it's not.

Unfortunately, that equates to her being super naughty at times (Which definitely comes from Dad's side...because that kind of behavior would have never come from Mom's side. She's perfect.).

So, Eva spends most of her time running between Syrupy Sweet and Angry Monster Princess. And then, of course, there is the in between, which confuses everyone with the random manifestations of good deeds and less than desirable attributes.

One of these charming attributes she has developed is lying.

It's absolutely ridiculous.

I found her on the kitchen floor a few mornings ago, in front of the open pantry, with a bag of marshmallows.

With her hand in the bag, and a horrified look on her face, she stared me in the eye, and said,

"I'm not stealing."

I wanted to respond, "What are you doing, then? Counting them?" but knew she would probably say yes, and that would be even more silly since she can't count past four without going into "imaginary numbers."

I instead replied, "Yes, you are, go back to bed."

Which resulted in an eruption of Wounded-Eva tears.

We later had a discussion about lying and stealing.

A few days later, we went to Costco and bought a fabulous Tuxedo Cake (I suggest you go and buy three: one for you, one for you later, and one for you to freeze and enjoy frozen all by yourself in the garage. And while you're at it, buy a whole bunch of plastic forks, to hide the evidence.). Jeremy ran off with The Boy, and left me with the girly-goos, which meant I was able to curl up in bed with a book while Eva played with her "Princess Tea Party" (she made that name up herself....if nothing else, she has a good self-image..All girls are princesses, you know.) and Eden and Lily napped. I stealthily slinked into the kitchen and cut myself a slice of the chocolate decadence, and shuffled back to my bedroom, where I thoroughly enjoyed my cake and most of "The Hunger Games."

While I was wrapped up in my chocolate and book fantasy, I kept hearing Eva open and close the playroom door. She must have done it 5 or 6 times. A little voice in my head told me something was up, but I just couldn't put Katniss and Peeta down, just in case they died between the time I went to see what was going on with Eva, resolved it, and got back.

I nestled in deeper into my pillow-strewn bed, and batted away at the Guilt Fairy that sometimes hovers there when I'm deeply involved in a novel. She's used to it, and bless her heart for still trying.

Jeremy finally came in, and I decided to go and pretend that I'm an attentive mother.

As I rounded the corner, there was Jeremy with eyebrows way up into his hairline and hands on his hips, and Eva looking like somebody had run over her "Princess Tea Party" with a steamroller, and then told her that despite all her pining, she would never, EVER turn into a mermaid when she grows up.

"Eva," Jeremy said sternly. "Why did you do that to the cake?"

I looked over at the beautiful Tuxedo cake. It had a huge gouge in it on one corner, as if tiny fingers had been scraping it away over, oh, I don't know...five or six trips over a 3 hour period.

She was crushed, and said, "It wasn't me..."

My heart laughed a sad little laugh at her plight, and we tried to explain to her the problem. She just kept backing up and eventually ended up in the dark bathroom, and attempted to close the door on us and her shame.

Not that her shame lasted long, since I caught her in the pantry yesterday drinking honey directly from the honey bear.

I suppose I deserve it. I mean, Emily and I used to raid the pantry when we were kids and swell with giddiness as we dined on our pilfered semi-sweet chocolate chips and plain cheerios. It's only natural that my children would probably end up doing the same.

Oh Eva...I know it's hard, but you must fight your Hyde-ness...Or at least hide it.

Like me.