I'm clearly doing something wrong when it comes to bed time right now. I am. My daughter will not go peacefully no matter what I try. The problem began around Thanksgiving, or so my short mommy brain memory believes, and is simply this: she wants to stay up and/or she doesn't want me to leave her alone. According to her, she is afraid of the dark, afraid of being alone, she has a tummy ache, her foot hurts, she's definitely got a boo-boo, she needs a drink of water, she can't find her pacifier, she wants Mickey instead of Minnie, or she needs to poop. On several occasions I believe she has made herself poop simply to prove her point.
Needless to say, I'm at my wits end. I can't think of another way to make this bedtime deal happen like it once did - smoothly. I try something new, it works for two or three nights, and then we're back to "ITS TOOO DARK IN HERE!"
On top of that, my dog drives me crazy around bedtime because he, too, needs attention. He wants to go out, he wants to come in - like what, he can't figure out the door? Monday night when things were going pretty well with the girl, the dog barks to come in, and of course that throws a wrench in the "smooth" thing. I waddle down the stairs, quickly open the door, let the dog in and then slam the very heavy sliding glass door closed DIRECTLY ON MY THUMB.
I screamed in sheer terror and pain. I ran to the sink, turned on the cold water and held my throbbing, immobile thumb in the cool stream. I also cried like I haven't cried in ages - a sobbing, heaving, horrifying cry that one might have heard across the street. My daughter came running (or one-stepping as quickly as 2 year old legs can) down stairs with her blanket and pacifer. She moved her step-stool next to me at the sink and said, "Mommy! What happened?" I said, through sobs, "I hurt my finger real bad." She said, "I'll go get my daddy." I thought, "wow! what a good helper!"
She proceded to go upstairs, put her pacifier and blanket in her bed (as that is where I ask her to keep those items when not in use), then she came back through the kitchen, quickly turned to me and yelled, "MOMMY STAY RIGHT THERE!" Then ran to the garage to get her father who was repairing a snow-plow issue. I heard her yelling at him from her spot at the doorway, "Mommy is crying! Mommy is crying!"
When they arrived at my side, I explained what had occured. My husband did the first aid thing, "Can you move it, describe the pain..." and he got the ice bag going. My daughter stood next to me, she placed her hand on my shoulder and said, "Mom, you want your Mommy come back over?" It was THE CUTEST thing I've heard her say ever. She was sincerely concerned that my pain would not subside without my own mother's assistance. I said, "No, hunny, you're taking care of me just fine." She smiled and gave me a little hug and said, "Thanks."
It just doesn't get cuter than that!
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