Maia is almost 3 now. Does anyone know when she will stop being fascinated with the fluids that come out of her body? I’m sick and tired of cleaning up pee & spit, I can’t hold out much longer.

I know B is at wit’s end too…  Every time a grown-up is distracted, Maia runs off and urinates on something. I’m not talking “accidents” here… these are intentional delinquent pissings. This weekend claimed a brand new car seat (it was just sitting by the door, hadn’t been installed yet, Maia turned it on it’s side and peed on it), her sister’s pillow, several outfits, and an upside-down frisbee.

This list generously fails to mention her other methods of mayhem. She flushed a pair of her own underwear down the toilet, for example. Later, after she was switched to diapers, she proceeded to try and rinse her diaper down the bathroom sink. The silica gel swelled up and not only clogged the sink but also splattered everywhere when I cleaned up the mess.

You’d think Maia had hours of free, unsupervised time to concoct & carry out these evil schemes. I have to say, though, I believe she is well supervised. …Going to the bathroom, taking a shower, giving one of the other two children in this family even an iota of attention, preparing a meal… To me, these are unavoidable obligations which must be satisfied, to Maia they’re opportunities for mass devastation. This kid is remarkably fast and can quickly spread a industrial sized can of peanut butter over the entire kitchen in the time it takes me to take out the trash.

Maia isn’t bothered much by discipline… Sure, she’s a little put out by the interruption, but will go back to her demolition as quickly as possible after you’ve finished punishing her.  Punishments also must be under constant surveillance. Turn your back on a “time out” to …say… go clean up a large peanut butter catastrophe, and  Maia calls a “time in” and uses the Dad-free time to distribute further insanity.

My first two children didn’t prepare me for Maia. They were fairly obedient and not nearly so inclined toward destruction. Addison was a gentleman intellectual since the moment of conception, and Rose… an aloof artist. Maia is a Visigoth. She’s the only one of my children who has ever needed stitches (and staples!). She’s the only one among them whose skull I’ve seen (she cut her forehead on the dresser when jumping off the bed… I didn’t beat her!).

I love her …I do.  She’s just so hard sometimes. I don’t even think she’s malicious about it, she’s just so busy and curious. Some days, though, I’m ashamed to admit… I live for her bedtime. The chance to have a few Maia-free hours. Sigh.

Our bedtime ritual itself has become a needed tool in maintaining my affection for this daughter. She’s so sweet when I announce that it’s bed time, she asks me right away “Will you read me three books, Daddy?” She snuggles up in the crook of my arm while I read to her on her bed, and demands “three songs” when I’ve finished reading. I sing her “Dream a Little Dream”, “Swinging on a Star”, & “Blue Moon”, when the mood strikes her she will sing along. She gives me a hug and a kiss, and tells me she loves me.  I return the affection and leave her snugly tucked in, drifting off to sleep with visions of weapons of mass destruction dancing in her head.

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