Wildly Independent

This post was originally written back in January; I just came across it while writing another.

Every Tuesday and Wednesday, Isaac and Isabel are dropped to my house after school. Our routine on those days is pretty much, well routine. On Tuesdays I drop older two to catechism. Wednesday is homework and snack and then up for showers.

From the day Julia was born, Isaac and Isabel have indulged her every need. Isabel was four when she was born. I joked that she was my au pair. As Julia has gotten older and her personality has developed (i.e. her mouth and attitude have gotten saucier), both Isaac and Isabel  will now challenge her, argue with her or even tease her.  For the most part the little one can hold her own. When she can't she cries foul and tattles to the nearest adult.

Isabel and Julia always go up first for showers. They get in together and Isabel washes Julia's hair and lathers her up. They love it because they giggle and do silly stuff. I love it because I can get dinner on and visit/help Isaac with his homework. It usually works well. Their greatest offense is taking too long and draining the hot water before Isaac showers. This is probably the part where I should admit that Deanna and I allow the kids to pee if they are in the shower. Not only is it greener than flushing the toilet, studies show that it's really good for your feet. So the girls get in, and I am upstairs getting their towels out and hanging them near the tub. I hear Isabel announce that she has to pee and Julia should back up. Julia is listening to none of this. She's too busy directing Isabel to position one of the shower heads at her. Isabel complies (sort of) and accidentally sprays Julia in the face with the water. This in turn causes Julia to lose her footing and slip to the ground. I pull the shower curtain at the back end of the tub  to look. Julia is on the floor of the tub with various soap pumps surrounding her complaining that Isabel sprayed water at her and peed on her. I tell her that I'd be happy to step in and shower her instead. They both protest and promise to make up and get on with it. I go back downstairs. It seems fairly quiet up there. After a long while, they call me up and ask if I would brush out their hair. When I get into Julia's bedroom they are both laying on the floor across from each other long hair out of the towel dripping wet, bodies curled in the fetal position wrapped tightly in their towels. They are practically hissing and growling at each other like two wet cats. I always start with Julia first. Normally her hair brushes out so smoothly; Isabel washes and conditions very well. I take the brush to it. It is an absolute rat's nest. I ask Isabel if she maybe forgot to condition it. This is when she tells me that Julia insisted on washing it herself. Really, a four and one half year old washing her own waist length hair? Isabel tried to reason with her but when Julia's mind is made up, that's that.

Later that night, Julia is laying stomach down across my lap reading. I lift her pj shirt to kiss and bite her lower back and squeeze (and bite)  her buns. And then it occurs to me. I ask her, did Isabel scrub you today or did you also wash your own body. She casually turns away from the book she's reading. "I did," she tells me. I reconsider biting any part of her that she washed.