Monday, May 30, 2011

The Path to Crazytown

Mom and I sewed like a couple of sweatshop wage-earners yesterday and got almost the whole baby’s room done. It was amazing how much we got done in a day. However, I came (limped) home feeling the consequences. My cold had worsened and my right hip felt like it’d been transplanted from the Tin Man by the time we were done. I left Amelia to sleep there because we’d gone too late and it seemed silly to keep her up only to rush home to bed. Thankfully, this allowed me to sleep in a bit and get a more sound rest for today.

Showed up at Mom’s around lunch time already feeling like a zombie. I could hardly keep my head up during lunch so I decided that maybe I’d take a nap with Amelia. She sleeps in a grownup bed there and we were both exhausted so I thought it would be the perfect opportunity for a snuggle nap! She was way excited so we went straight to naptime.

Every time I closed my eyes, she’d talk or whisper or something annoying. When I told her to close her eyes, she actually fell asleep for a minute before remembering that I was there and promptly snapped her little eyelids up again. After half an hour of trying to cuddle her tight enough to keep her from fidgeting and telling her to keep her eyes closed, I turned my back on her to fall asleep. Just as I started to doze and get those crazy thoughts that aren’t quite dreams but aren’t quite conscious, she’d say something to snap me out of it. “be quiet!” Dozzzzze. Poke. “Amelia don’t poke me and go to sleep.” Dooooozzze snooooorrrre. Poke. “knock it off or I am going to have to leave.” “No Mama, I want to take a nap with you. “Then GO TO SLEEP!” Doooozzzze. Snooooorrrre. Drooooool. Poke.

“Okay. I need to leave you alone so you can get some sleep. I’ve seen you rolling your eyes in the back of your head and I am obviously keeping you up.” Crying. Tears. Begging. “Don’t leave Mama!!” “Get some sleep, sweetie.”

 

Stomp downstairs and throw self on recliner. Close eyes. Begin to doze. Crazy thoughts. Sleep?

“WAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH”

Stomp upstairs. “WHAT IS WRONG?!”

“You left your sunglasses in here. You need to take them out.”

“Really? That’s what you’re screaming about?”

“Take them out of here.”

Back downstairs muttering various curses. Throw self on recliner. Close eyes.

Repeat above scenario three more times (substituting sunglasses for any other stupidfuckingreason she can’t sleep). Also substitute my mom for me in going upstairs because Grammy was worried that I’d kill the grandbaby.

On third run upstairs and over an hour and no sleep, I said, “Just bring her down. She’s obviously not sleeping so I’ll just take her home.”

In the next 20 minutes, insert five meltdowns around getting dressed, picking up toys, and going potty. One timeout.

In the car for home. She falls asleep 10 minutes later. Shit. Shit shit SHIT. Areyoufuckingkiddingme?! When we get home, I empty out the car before scooping up the sleeping child. Bring her inside, still asleep. She wakes up the second I try to put her in bed. Awesome.

Between dinner, bath, and bedtimes, insert at least another 5-10 meltdowns—including one over my not attaching the dustpan low enough on the broom. Oh yes. Real tears and snot bubbles and everything. Over the dustpan.

So let’s recap so far. No nap. Mama’s exhausted and sick and now dealing with an exhausted child who, because she didn’t nap, is more needy, whiny, and difficult than ever. At least bedtime should go easy right? No fighting from a tired baby! Right? RIGHT?!

 

Getting to bed included a few more meltdowns because you know, a cupboard was open in the kitchen. Seriously. Goodnight. I love you. Sweet dreams. See you in the morning. Blah. Blah.

Finally. ME time. Collapse into rocker with laptop to surf until a reasonable bed time (does 8 count??). Five minutes later, “WAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH” I tried to ignore it and let her work it out so it doesn’t turn into a game of back and forth—a game that we play all too often. “poooooo poooooooooo!!!!!” Yeah. She stands and her door and cries instead of just going to the bathroom by herself. I tell her to go to the potty. She comes stumbling out and I tell her to come sit with me. She climbs into my lap and lays on my chest. Sweet, I think. I’ll take this chance to just let her fall asleep on my chest. Heaven knows she won’t have the chance again soon. Ten minutes of sweet snuggles and rocking. . . and waiting. “Sweetie, do you want to fall asleep in mama’s arms tonight?”  “Yeah.” She pulls my arms around her and snuggles in.

Fifteen minutes later, not sleeping. “Okay babygirl. I think you need to go to bed so you can sleep.”

“No mama. I want to sleep in your arms and rocking.”

“Okay, but just a few more minutes or you’ll need to go to bed by yourself okay?”

See? I am trying here. Do you SEE me trying again and again to be positive and caring and not evil mama?

Two minutes later. “Mama. I really need to get some rest. I can’t sit here with you. I’m really tired today. I didn’t take a nap today.” Pushes away from me and goes to bed.

1 comment:

The Bowlings said...

Sorry, this made me laugh. Mainly? because i could have written this post myself. except that i'm not knocked up. the drama is unbelievable right now. hang in there mama <3