Bedtime drama with the mama

damn right im good in bed

I’m exhausted.  Like most mommies I know…my favorite part of the day is when I finally get to go to bed.  My second favorite time of the day is when my kids go to bed.  That’s when the real work begins…lunch packing, attacking masses of laundry, cleaning up from the tornado the kids always seem to produce, paying some attention to the dogs so they don’t get mad and pee on my floor…all the while trying desperately to squeeze in some much needed “me” time.  (not to mention making time for my nightly phone date with BFFLMNOP)  So why is it, that my kids just don’t understand that going to bed is a good thing?  Boog isn’t too bad…he offers the standard “Ugh…i don’t want to go to bed” every night, but once the routine is started…he’s good to go.  Dramamama on the other hand…she lives up to her name each and every night.  First we have the obstacle of getting up the steps.  Now, she could be doing just about anything…sitting on the couch, chasing a dog, hopping on one of those jumpy ball things, performing her latest dance number… But no matter what she’s doing, the moment she reaches the steps, her legs just give out.  Instantly, she’s laying on the steps, and her legs just can’t function anymore…she’s “just soooooooo tiiiiiiiiiiirrrrrrrrredddd.”  I’ve kinda given up this battle…she’s only 30 pounds, and really…I’d rather carry her up the steps than put up with her crap.  (I’m not a total pushover, tho…I do make her at least turn off the whiny diva voice and ask nicely if I could please carry her up.)  So we get upstairs…she manages to sprint to her room, only to “remember” that her legs are “soooooooo tiiiiiiiiiiiiirrrredddd” and collapses on her bed…unable to dress herself.  This is about the point where my patience flies out the window.  Fast forward through the stories, the song, the back rubs (we have a very structured, sort of annoying bedtime routine…but it works).  Usually by this time she realizes, yes…sleep is a good thing, and yells over to me as I’m reading Boog his story “Mommy…I’m just gonna take a little rest.”  Those words are music to my ears…I know it will be a smooth night.  However…there are those nights, like tonight, when she is hell-bent on staying awake.  This is the point when every ache and pain comes to the surface…every random question begs to be answered…and every memory of the last 4 years must be recalled.  I let it go for awhile, but eventually reach a point where I mean business…have a stern talk with her…and I don’t hear a peep again (something about the threat of shutting her bedroom door really freaks her out!).  As I was making Boog’s lunch tonight…she was in rare form, and some of the things keeping her awake were just fantastic… I’ve implemented the three strike rule with her…and she used them all tonight.  Plus one…cause I forgot to start counting at the first one.

What should’ve been strike one: 

DM: “Mommy….my leg really does hurt.”

Me: “So rub it.”

DM: “I can’t rub it. It’s in a very weird spot.  I think I need you to rub it til I fall asleep…then it will be better.”

Me: “I think you need me to close your door.”

DM: “Actually…it didn’t hurt that bad.”

What was strike one:

 DM: “I miss Ellie (our hamster who has been dead for a year).

Me:  “I know you do sweetie…she was a nice hamster. Now go to sleep.”

DM: “Can we pleeeeeease just go get the blue shovel and dig her up so that I can just hold her again???”

Me: “No, Drama. When something dies, and you bury it, you don’t ever dig it back up.  She’s under the bush, remember?”

DM: “But I love her.  And I miss her. And I forget what it’s like to hold her.”

Me: “And that was strike one.”

DM: “OK…goodnight!”

Strike two: 

DM: “Mommy!”

Me: “What, dear?”

DM: “My butt-crack itches.”

Me: “Scratch it.”

DM: “The pull-up is in the way. I need you to scratch it.”

Me: “If I come up to scratch your butt, I’m shutting the door on the way out.”

DM: “I think I’ll scoot the pull-up over.  Yeah…that worked.  Goodnight!”

Strike three:

DM: “I really don’t want to die when I’m all done being an old lady!”

Me:  “Stop it, Drama.  You are 4 years old…think about happy things.”

DM: “But I can’t…my brain is just thinking over and over that I don’t want to die when I’m an old lady and I can’t make my brain stop thinking that!”

Me: “Will it stop thinking it if I shut the door?”

DM: “Nevermind…I think it stopped thinking it now.”

And that was that.  Haven’t heard her since.  I know I shouldn’t let her get all the way to three strikes…but it is quite humorous! And besides…nothing else exciting happened in my life today (unless you count getting spit on by a 3 year old autistic boy and watching his very overweight, very odd mom do a ghetto ass-shaking dance in the observation room mirror…but that’s a typical day for me), so I wasn’t going to blog at all.  And then you would have had nothing to read, and you wouldn’t be so entertained!  So giving my daughter a little bit of leeway is actually a good thing…it gives me something to laugh at, and God knows I need more of that! 

Back to work…a mommy’s work is never done.  But at least it’s peaceful now…


3 Responses

  1. Hilarious. That is all I can say. Oh, and that I miss them. Dearly. ❤

  2. Oh, that’s good. How are 4 year olds SOOOOOO full of that stuff? It’s too good. Good for you for writing it down!


  3. That’s my girl. I miss her so f’n much. Letting her drag out bedtime isn’t the end of the world. I would do anything to hear her whinning right now. I really do like the 3 strike thing you’re doing now. It’s a lot better than just threatening the door shutting.

    Oh, and you had a Mom shaking her ass in the observation mirror? What is WRONG with people???

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