Wednesday, May 05, 2004
Attack of the Naked Toddlers
I love being a mom. Truly I do. More than, well, pretty much anything.
That was the caveat. Here's the blog: It's 9 p.m. (literally; the clock just changed) and I'm JUST NOW sitting down to write. When, when, when did my darling little precious angel daughter (and how) move her bedtime from 7:30 to 8:45????????
Sigh.
At about 7:30, C was running around like a wild thing. American Idol (aka "The Singing People") started, and since that's her favorite show (the kid's gonna be a dancer, I swear) we let her watch. Accordingly, I blame the demise of bedtime on Simon C. (Why not? He seems capable of shouldering more blame.) At 8, C informs me that she wants a better look at her Blues Clues panties and strips down to her undies. Then she strips ALL the way down (except for socks) and starts racing through the house yelling "naked baby! naked baby!" When D points out that she's wearing her socks, she takes them off, effectively remedying that little problem.
This lasts for a good 30 minutes, w/ me running after her trying to cajole her into a pair of pullups. Finally, I convince her that it would be great fun to put her legs in the pullups and then jump. This works wonders.
Fast forward a bit. We're dressed. We read the 3 night books (chosen by C for the evening) and the 2 routine bedtime books (How Do Dinosaurs Say Goodnight, and Goodnight Sleep Tight Little Bunnies -- for some reason, C was fascinated w/ the author's name on this one, so she always says it's GSTLB "by Dawn Apperly". I once tried to find DA on line to tell her she had a 2 year old fan. No luck.) Then we start in w/ the routine of getting into bed (this is more complicated than it sounds, and D is sick tonight and already asleep). And ... YAY! It's done! And then ....
"Momma, I gotta potty."
Sigh.
I am tempted to say "that's why you're wearing a pullup" but I don't. I lavish much praise and get her up and we go off to the potty where she does in fact do the deed. Then says she isn't finished and proceeds to play w/ the shower curtain until I make enough stern mommy noises that she decides maybe it's time to wash her hands.
fast forward again and we're back in bed. "Mommy, I gotta go potty."
Nope. This time not buying it. "Is that just so you can get out of bed and play?"
"Yeah, momma."
Little rascal.
Tuck in. Prayers. Night night.
And now, through the monitor, she's still shuffling around, singing to herself, arranging her buddies...and it's now 9:11 and I'm just now firing up the laptop. Ten pages tonight. I MUST do ten pages.
Here's hoping they come easy!
That was the caveat. Here's the blog: It's 9 p.m. (literally; the clock just changed) and I'm JUST NOW sitting down to write. When, when, when did my darling little precious angel daughter (and how) move her bedtime from 7:30 to 8:45????????
Sigh.
At about 7:30, C was running around like a wild thing. American Idol (aka "The Singing People") started, and since that's her favorite show (the kid's gonna be a dancer, I swear) we let her watch. Accordingly, I blame the demise of bedtime on Simon C. (Why not? He seems capable of shouldering more blame.) At 8, C informs me that she wants a better look at her Blues Clues panties and strips down to her undies. Then she strips ALL the way down (except for socks) and starts racing through the house yelling "naked baby! naked baby!" When D points out that she's wearing her socks, she takes them off, effectively remedying that little problem.
This lasts for a good 30 minutes, w/ me running after her trying to cajole her into a pair of pullups. Finally, I convince her that it would be great fun to put her legs in the pullups and then jump. This works wonders.
Fast forward a bit. We're dressed. We read the 3 night books (chosen by C for the evening) and the 2 routine bedtime books (How Do Dinosaurs Say Goodnight, and Goodnight Sleep Tight Little Bunnies -- for some reason, C was fascinated w/ the author's name on this one, so she always says it's GSTLB "by Dawn Apperly". I once tried to find DA on line to tell her she had a 2 year old fan. No luck.) Then we start in w/ the routine of getting into bed (this is more complicated than it sounds, and D is sick tonight and already asleep). And ... YAY! It's done! And then ....
"Momma, I gotta potty."
Sigh.
I am tempted to say "that's why you're wearing a pullup" but I don't. I lavish much praise and get her up and we go off to the potty where she does in fact do the deed. Then says she isn't finished and proceeds to play w/ the shower curtain until I make enough stern mommy noises that she decides maybe it's time to wash her hands.
fast forward again and we're back in bed. "Mommy, I gotta go potty."
Nope. This time not buying it. "Is that just so you can get out of bed and play?"
"Yeah, momma."
Little rascal.
Tuck in. Prayers. Night night.
And now, through the monitor, she's still shuffling around, singing to herself, arranging her buddies...and it's now 9:11 and I'm just now firing up the laptop. Ten pages tonight. I MUST do ten pages.
Here's hoping they come easy!
