Ever since 10-months-old, the Parents misused my uncontrollable laughter when being tickled to brush my teeth. With my mouth wide open, Mommy would sneak in and scrub my mere six teeth so hard that she might as well sand wood.
Finally, we made a deal – I will brush my teeth if I can floss afterwards.
I can still remember my first successful flossing attempt.
As usual, I ran to the brushing station and pointed at the three glistening toothbrushes on the counter, shouting, “Mama, Dada, Me!” As if they have woken from a spell, they floated towards my command with Mommy’s help.
After gnawing at my toothbrush, I carefully picked up a floss pick and watched Mommy closely as she puts one in her mouth, all the while looking at the mirror.
I took a deep breath and attempted to do the same.
Nope, the floss is lying flat; it needed to be upright.
Nope, I missed my mouth entirely.
Argh! Why did she make it look so easy?
Unlike the previous nights, I refused to give up.
Nope, too far to the right. What is wrong with my clumsy fingers? How is it that when I moved my hand one way but the hand in the mirror moves the other, aren’t they supposed to like… mirror?
Pluck.
The sound vibrated in my mouth. Ahha! The floss pick string is in between my teeth. It may have taken a total of 248 attempts during my short lifetime, but I finally got it!
“Good job, Izzy. Look, Daddy. She’s flossing!”
I proudly smiled at the latest accessory in my mouth, the green pick dangling over my lips as if, it too, is having a victory dance.
Introduction: In mid-February 2021, Texas got hit with the coldest winter in 30 years, dropping the temperature from 60F to 0F, leaving 2.8 million people in Texas without power, heat, or water. Below is a story of 2-year-old Izzy’s experience.
“It was 60 degrees this morning! How did it drop to 15 already!?” exclaims Mommy as she pulls another sweater over me.
“We need to conserve gas. We can run the generator for another 30 minutes. Let’s quickly eat,” said Daddy.
We gather around the table, our feet welcoming the space heater’s warm breath.
Mommy points at the flames igniting from the portable gas burner on the dining room table and sternly said, “Hot. No Touch.” She then starts shoveling noodle soup in my mouth as fast as I could swallow. What is the rush!?
Daddy handed Mommy a flashlight and said, “I’m turning off the generator. Let’s gather your stuff and head to the bedroom. Remember, keep the door closed to keep warm.”
“Ion King?…mote mote” I point at the remote, my usual reward for finishing my plate.
“I’m sorry, Izzy, there’s no electricity right now; we can’t watch TV today.”
I look at her, astonish. I am two years old, not dumb.
The lights are on; there is electricity. Before I could protest, a snap echo in the room. Then darkness swallows the living room whole. Suddenly, I can hear the wind crawling through the gaps, whispering in the silence.
I grab Mommy’s legs, yelling, “cared cared!”
“It’s okay, Izzy. Don’t be scare. Mommy is here.” Mommy picks up baby Dora on the swing. Together, we walk carefully down the hallway illuminated by her flashlight.
We turn into the master bathroom. “Izzy, after we brush our teeth, you get to blow out the candles,” she points at the flickering white block on the table.
Ooo, I love blowing out candles.
But first, brush teeth – ugh, flossing is so much more fun (link).
After swallowing the last of the toothpaste in my mouth, I hum “happy birthday to me” and take one final glance at our shadows dancing along the walls. “Pffftt!” The flames dissipate. Nice, all the practice had paid off, blew it out in one shot.
Then it dawns on me. Did she turn off the electricity and heat just to make me go to bed early!? Tricky Tricky. I will not allow it. It is 2 hours before my usual bedtime.
I cannot let them win; else, I will lose precious playtime after dinner forever.
“No!” I yell. Sitting on the floor, I put together the zebra puzzle for the eighth time today.
When I finish the puzzle, I glance over at the parents on the bed, their eyes drooping in the dim light. My gaze moves to the baby in the crib, already asleep – successfully tricked.
I yawn. Oh no! I can’t sleep yet.
I rub my eyes. The dark is overpowering me.
One can only play the same puzzle so many times.
Crawling over Daddy’s limp body, I collapse in between the parents on my pillow. Even after wearing four layers, it feels like it is getting colder with every passing minute.
Just tonight. I will let them win just tonight. I snuggle closer against Mommy’s back, stealing her warmth. In the end, all that matters is that we are together. All of us, in the same room – Daddy, Mommy, Dora, and I.
Note to the Reader:
Having been without hot water, electricity, heat, and hot food at below zero temperatures for 51 hours made me realize a lifestyle change is needed. Climate change is real. Living in the USA, we are spoiled with these cheap essentials leading to overconsumption of our natural resources. This experience was scary, but it was only for two days while our future generations may suffer for the rest of their lives. Studies have predicted we will have limited clear water and clean air by 2050.
I implore you to learn more about climate change and about how we can reverse the impacts as an individual and a civilization. Some actions I will be taking are:
Taking a shorter shower to use less water
Installing solar panels or LED lights to use less energy and lower the electricity bill
Eating less meat (methane gas from animals is ~10% of the greenhouse gas emissions)
Buying used instead of new products (save more money along the way)
The parents had been acting suspiciously for the past two months. They got out my old toys from when I was a teeny tiny baby. I am two years old already. They should know I am too old for those, and I could hardly fit in the swing. Although I didn’t complain because they put another crib next to their bed, I miss sleeping in their room.
One night, two strangers appeared in our house.
Mommy introduced a tall lady with a mask as “Nanny”; she said Nanny would stay with us for a month to help cook and clean. Then Mommy pointed at a sleeping baby in her arms, saying, “this is Baby Sister Dora.” That’s a long name. I waited for Mommy to finish her sentence, to explain how long is the baby staying and what’s her purpose, like what she did for Nanny. So many questions!
I screamed and started crying, throwing a fit on the floor.
I was exhausted because it is past my bedtime, I may be slightly hungry, and did I mention there were two strangers in my home?!
After calming down for a few minutes, Mommy pointed at the two gift bags beside her, saying one is for me, and the other is from Baby Sister Dora. I reached my hands into one of the gift bags and pulled out my favorite chocolate, Ferrero Rocher. OOooo. Now you got my attention. I reached my hands into the bag again and found a grey stuffed puppy. Hmm.
I dropped the puppy on the floor and stared at my box of delicious gold pebbles. Mmmmm.
“Here, can you give this to the Baby Sister Dora?” Mommy interrupted as she handed me the other bag. Why don’t you give it to her? I have important matters at hand, literally. I reached into the bag and pulled out a painting I drew the other day. “Thank you for giving Baby Sister Dora your painting. The pink and purple swirls are so pretty,” said Mommy. I guess I can gift this as I handed the painting to the sleeping baby.
It was then that I got to look at her face to face for the first time. She seems… familiar. She looks… like me. Like, baby me.
Daddy whispered, “can you give the baby a kiss?” Sure, I love giving kisses as I landed a wet one on her forehead. She stirred a little bit. Then I turned my attention back to my chocolates. How many can I eat at once?
Is it me, or is Mommy… getting fat? As a two-year-old, the top of my head barely touches the bottom of her belly; I have to tilt my head backward when I stand in front of Mommy just to see her face.
Her belly is growing so big that I can’t even wrap my arms around her waist anymore when we hug.
It has been even more frustrating in the last few months. She stopped picking me up, claiming that her back hurts. We don’t play tag anymore because she waddles too slowly. She also stopped going on bike rides with Daddy and me.
This weight gain is getting a little ridiculous. Ok, so, how should I tell Mommy nicely that she should consider losing weight? Hmm. Maybe I’ll say,
“Your clothes are getting a little tight; should you lose a few pounds?”
Nah, too straightforward. What about I can tell her during dinner, “are you sure you want a second helping?” or “perhaps you should just eat salad tonight.” Ugh, there’s no easy way.
It also doesn’t help that she’s in denial of her weight gain.
She often points at her belly and says there’s a baby inside of her. Sometimes, she’ll even ask me to kiss the baby. Unsure of where to kiss, since I haven’t seen this “so-called baby,” I would kiss her belly instead. I always get rewarded with “aww, you’re a good girl,” so that’s the right place?
But c’mon. Anyone knows a baby can’t fit in there!
Why would a baby want to hide in a human body? On second thought, maybe the baby is playing hide and seek with me? What a genius! That’s the best place to hide! Where’s the opening?
At 8-months-old, I can finally mark my territory with my army of four teeth. Lesson learned: bite everything except for self. I bit my fingers, forgetting I just got the big front tooth, and those chompers hurt! Imagine what I can do when I have ALL my teeth?! Or the better question is, what can I NOT do?
I need to find more teeth. Pronto.
It is not like they are buried in the ground, and I just have to dig for them. The only way to get them is through the teeth acquiring ceremony. It is usually a pretty rough process. Every few weeks, they will appear out of nowhere after sacrificing my well-being, including loss of appetite and lack of sleep. A warm headache frequently occurs as well – the parents called it a “fever.” They’ll stick a machine in my ears every few hours, exclaiming a number. I’m assuming the higher the number, the more likely the tooth is arriving.
No pain, no gain – after 2-3 days of sacrifice, my gums will itch, and I’ll become a drooling zombie.
Usually, popping a chew toy in my mouth to gnaw at the sore spot will speed up the progress. Sometimes, I cry out in frustration; patience is not a virtue that comes pre-packaged for a baby. After what feels like an eternity, I can feel the head of the teeth peeping out of the gums’ its edges scraping on my delicate tongue. Finally, I’ll get my reward!
I can’t wait to expand my territory with my unlimited saliva supply and strong, sharp teeth.
So far, I have acquired a doll, broccoli stalks, and Mommy’s arms.
