Monday, again.

Day 23 – National Blog Posting Month



My toddler is consistently waking in the middle of the night.  I’ve written about this before. What we really need to do is let him cry it out but he’s very loud and very persistent and I fear he will wake up the other kids. So I drag my ass out of bed at an ungodly hour and walk down the hallway to his room where he is waiting at the gate with his sippy cup in hand. I walk by, take the cup from him and go down to the kitchen.  I hear him walk back to his bed and he’s quiet.  By this time the cat has heard the commotion and comes into the kitchen meowing her bloody head off and as I look at her food bowl I notice it’s empty.


I fill the sippy cup with milk and feed the cat then head upstairs.  Toddler is still in his bed waiting for milk. I climb over the gate, almost tripping over it and he laughs as I stumble toward his bed.  I kiss him on the forehead, say “Night, Night”, hand him his milk and leave the room.

Crawling back to bed I fall back asleep and instantly am awakened again by the 4.5 year old running down the hallway.

What the????

I look at the clock. It’s now 6am.

Monday morning can suck it.


A Midnight Battle of Will

“The Force is strong in this one.”

Two years old in a few weeks and he’s giving me more hassle than the other two before him combined.

Seriously, kid?

He expertly climbed out of his crib a month ago.  Happy as a pig in shit to do so. Ready for a big boy bed, it would seem.  So a big boy bed he got. Trouble is now he won’t stay in it.  Oh, eventually he’ll just tire at the gate and shuffle back to bed but when this happens at 1 am in the morning, it comes down to a battle of will.

“Maaaaama, I whan warhm miiiiilk.”

Me, softly, from my bedroom. “Go back to bed.”

“No. Miiiiiilk.”

Whining ensues. Tired whining.

Me: “Go back to bed.”

“No. Maaaaama.  I hugry.”

A few more minutes of whining.

“Daaaaady. I whan warhm miiiilk.”

Sternly, “Go back to bed. Night night.”

“Maaaaama.  Miiiiilk.”

This went on for over an hour. Eventually, his will broke and he found his way back to bed. Hmpfh. Hungry indeed.  Just stay the fuck in bed, kid.

The 4-year-old.

This popped up on my FB feed this morning.

I immediately wanted to paste a photo of my daughter in place of the lovely woman on the phone.

Harsh?  Maybe a little.

Accurate?  Damn straight.

I don’t know what it is about mornings, but daughter (who will be 4 in late November) has been waking up more times than not, grumpy.  She comes into our room demanding breakfast, turns on the lights, wants my phone or wants some milk.  My alarm hasn’t even gone off (hell, who needs one with this kid?).  She’s a great kid.  She is just hellish in the morning… oh, and right before bed.

Over the last month or so, her  “time outs”  are increasing exponentially.  She just does not listen, or do what she’s told.  Either she is wrapped up in a book, or with drawing that she just isn’t paying attention to us, or she is deliberately ignoring us.  When my parents witness the behavior, I can see the smirk that comes across their face.  The expression, “what goes around, comes around” comes to mind.

Time and again, while talking to patients in the office, particularly parents, I hear the expressing, “the effing fours”.  Really?  That’s just a myth, right? Right??  Sadly, I think I’m deluding myself, especially when I see this wonderful blogger describing what my life has been like the last few days.  Just when I thought we were getting into a good eating phase, she does a complete 360 on me and it’s back to the refusal… of everything (that doesn’t have chocolate in it.)

Don’t get me wrong, watching my kid come into her own personality and seeing her doing things independently is wonderful.  I know everything she is doing is right for her age, I just wish it wasn’t so trying sometimes. Why does bedtime have to be a battle?  (Speaking of battle, we just got this book from Scholastic – brilliant!)  I know I have it pretty easy.  Five out of 7 days of the week, I only have to deal with the morning and afternoon crazies.  The rest of the day I am dealing with the adult crazies (ha! ha!).  Hats off to my husband who is in the trenches with the kids 7 days a week.

I have to say though, that despite the occasional (okay, somewhat daily) epic meltdowns daughter is having lately, she is an amazing big sister.  She and little brother are playing more and more together every day.  She is teaching him so much. Just this morning she pointed to a picture of Elmo and said, “Who’s this?” and he responded, “Eh-mo”.  Cue big grin from him and proud smile from her.  It was so adorable.  Almost daily, there is a few minutes in the day when big sister and little brother sit on the couch and “read” a book together.  It’s one of the best parts of the day.

I love my 4-year-old.  She drives me crazy sometimes, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Guess who hijacked my dinner?

The other night, I bought a  wonderfully cheap bottle of wine to try before my monthly wine club night.  Ogio Primitive Puglio IGT, 2010.   For $8.90, it is a fantastic bottle of wine.  So fantastic, in fact, that I plan on picking up several more to keep on hand as my “house wine”.

My husband and I have been trying to eat healthy during the week with salads and light dinners but last night I really wanted a steak, so I stopped by the local butcher and picked up a great rib eye.  I was really looking forward to having a glass of that Primitivo with dinner.   I put son to bed quite easily, but daughter had had a nap so she wasn’t quite ready for bed until 7:30pm.  We read some books, brushed her teeth, and I tucked her in.  Husband went up to tell her a final bedtime story while I prepared some vegetables and mashed the potatoes.  About 8:10pm, husband comes back to the kitchen and starts cooking the steak.  I prepared the table in the basement, got our wine glasses ready, turned on Netflix and was starting to browse when I heard the distinct sound of daughter getting out of bed and stomping down the stairs.

I ran up from the basement in time to see her coming down the hallway into the kitchen, exclaiming, “What is Daddy cooking? It smells so yummy!”.  We told her it was a steak for mommy, then she proceeds to get a chair from the dining room, brings it into the kitchen to get a better look at the steak.  “I want some too. I’m hungry!”.

Really?  It’s no wonder, she didn’t want her dinner when it was offered to her two hours earlier.

So, rather than eat our steak dinner quietly in the basement, I set the dining room table and daughter joined us.  What ensued was a rather hilarious encounter.  She ate a few pieces of steak, “I don’t like the red part, mommy”.  “Daddy, where does steak come from?”.   “I want more corn.”  It was a wonderful half hour of non stop talking and questions.  Husband took some video while she showed us that she knows how to write numbers, which was a surprise to us.  We watched in awe as she meticulously wrote 1, 2, and 3.  She butchered the number 4, and forgot how to write 5, but then wrote a 7 , 8, 9 and a 10 (albeit, it was backwards).

(From left to right).  You can clearly see the backwards 10, the 9, the 3 and 8; then a proper 10, a 7 (under the 8), and then 1,2,3, n (supposed to be a 4) and 2 (supposed to be a 5).

As much as I love the peace and quiet at nighttime when the kids have gone to bed, it was pure joy to have had my steak dinner hijacked by my wonderful 3.5 year old.  I just hope it doesn’t happen every night!