Thursday, July 27, 2006

Rockabye, baby, just go to sleep...

So, the Bear has started doing this great new thing wherein she will wake up at night to go "pee-pee in the potty," which I am all about, since she has had three mornings of dry diapers now, but when she wakes up, she decides to stay awake. For hours. And hours. Now she's decided that she doesn't want to go to bed. At all. Ever. And I am horrible for making her go. She's really starting to get a little manipulative about it - drinks, trips to the potty, stories, claims of nightmares... Witness tonight:

Bear is sleepy. Oh, so sleepy. Wants to get in the bathtub at 7:00.

I make her stay up a little later, because I know it's not her falling-asleep-time yet.

She whines. And gripes. And cries. And makes herself generally unpleasant until 7:30, when I finally agree to put them in the bathtub.

Bath, jammies, story, into the bed. All at her request. We kiss goodnight. I head downstairs. It is 8:15.

8:16 - ::sound of feet padding down the hallway:: ::floor creaking:: I sense the Bear hovering at the top of the stairs. She creeps down. Has to pee. Fine. We pee. Back to bed. "Now I'm wakey! I don't wanna take a nap!"

I am very kind, understanding, gentle, and loving. The sun has gone to bed and so must you, etc. We'll eat the bread we baked tonight for breakfast tomorrow, etc. Tuck her back in and leave. I head back downstairs.

Scarcely have I sat upon the couch before I hear

::sound of feet padding down the hallway:: ::floor creaking::

I wait to see if she will say anything. She doesn't move. She can't see me. "Go back to your bed, Bear."

Oh, the calamity. The wailing, the tears. "I had a bad dream, Mama." Yeah, right. You didn't even lay down, and you haven't been to sleep yet. You can't have had a bad dream.

But I am willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. I kiss. I cuddle. I give endless reminders of how Mom will never let anything happen to her girls, always very safe at home, blah blah blah. Wipe nose. Wipe eyes. Wipe mouth. Suggest bed? "I have to poop now." Fine. We go to the bathroom. No poop - but she's willing to sit on the pot and talk my ear off for ten minutes.

Back to bed. Much protesting and crying to be had. This time, I tell her that if she needs to go to the bathroom, she can call out to me, but she needs. to. stay. in. bed. Get in bed, stay in bed. No wanderings. She cries.

Mouse is up.

Feed Mouse, burp Mouse, put her back down. Remind the Bear to Stay In The Bed And Sleep Already. I head back downstairs.

Lather, rinse, repeat. Three times. Each time I get a little less patient, a little more irritated. It is now 10:30. We started this process at 7:30. I am displeased. Finally, I put them in their respective beds, pat each on the butt, and say, not the least bit nicely, "Just go to sleep already! Don't get up again!"

And it worked. So, to recap: falling for the ploys=no sleep. Firm & slightly grumpy=sleeping babies. Whatever it takes, I suppose.

I am so fried. I know the Bear will be up at some ungodly hour of the night, and have to be taken into the guest bed to go back to sleep with one of us. Ugh. I am so Not It tonight. I need a vacation from my summer vacation.

In other random news, we are leaving to visit family for a week. Most of them have never met either of the girls, some of them I haven't even seen since my wedding day. It will be nice to see everyone, but 400+ miles in the car with my kids? Not so exciting to me. I just know Mouse will use that opportunity to cut a tooth. Speaking of which, she has the tiniest corner of a tooth poking out today. Poor kid - she looks miserable. My family will probably think she's HellBaby because of all the toothiness, when she's normally the most laid-back, sweetest kid ever. Oh, well. I know better, if nobody else does.

Also? I think Johnny Depp is the greatest. I saw him on Letterman and he's just... so... you know. Intriguing. I watched an episode of that actor show when he was a guest, and he is really very intelligent. And he was talking about watching his wife give birth to their daughter, and how much respect he had for her, and how much he loved her, and how amazing it was, blah blah blah, and you just know there's nothing sexier than a man who can not only watch but enjoy watching his wife give birth. Plus he looks hot in eyeliner.

I made bread tonight. It smells all nice and yeasty in my house. So yummy, and so easy - easier than wrangling both girls into carseats and hauling them to the store and back home again. And the Bear got to help, which she totally enjoys.

Two years ago tonight, I was in labor with the Bear. I was sick and scared and in pain and pretty much just freaked out. Had I known what a cool kid she would turn into, I probably would have been a lot less freaked (although I'm pretty damn sure it wouldn't have done a thing for the pain). She rocks.

3 comments:

Julie said...

All hail Johnny Depp. Do you think 2 is too young to see Pirates of the Caribbean? I jest, but in all seriousness that movie might just be worth the babysitter and the sitting-in-one-place-for-two-hours-despite-being-pregnant.

Enjoy your trip!

Ninotchka said...

Johny is yummy.

What a night for you! Hope they stayed down and that you got some rest.

;)

Have fun visiting with your family!

Andrew said...

You DO sound fried! You totally need to read about the (literally) best parenting tip my wife and I ever received. You can read about it in The Five-Minute Drill. It might save you hours of sleep some night - it certainly did for us.