Tomorrow the bossy, stubborn, and willful presence in our house turns FOUR. I should also mention that she is snuggly and sweet and brave. For months, she has been putting off all difficult or undesirable tasks, saying she'll get to that "when she's four." You know, little things like wiping her own bottom and putting her own toothpaste on the brush. Needless to say, we have all been looking forward to this day for several reasons. Not that I won't miss hearing , "Moooommmmyyyy! I neeeeeed you!" From her bathroom, but you know, the charm has kind of worn off.
She's not afraid to ask for what she wants. Not afraid to claim it. And has been known, on occasion to work it if need be. It's what I adore about her. If she needs me, she points to where she'd like me to sit and instructs me how it will go..."You sit there, criss-cross applesauce, and I will sit in your lap and you can scratch my head so I can tell you about my day. Oh, and I also need a song. A new song. Not one I've heard before." You think I'm exaggerating. I'm not.
Last weekend, we opened a few gifts and had dinner with her grandparents. Here's how that went:
Monday through Friday, my daughter naps at school. Like clockwork, she lays down on a little mat covered with a clean sheet and she doses off to the sound of some classical music. I know this because I used to pick her up from school directly after nap time and a few of those times I arrived a little early and saw the whole scene--darkened room, 10 sprawled out kids with blankets half covering them and a few with the jacked-up nap hair headed for the potty. Everyone whispering.
But on Saturday and Sunday, it's a whole different scene. When we first moved into this house, back in April, we sort of made a decision to skip the nap. GirlChild was three and her brother wasn't napping and, we hoped, skipping the nap might help with bedtime. We were wrong. As any seasoned parent knows, Sleep Begets Sleep. An overly-tired child who is about to fall over from exhaustion is nearly impossible to get to sleep. Instead, said child is hostile and mean and poised for a tantrum. By mid day, we'd find her crashed out in front of cartoons, asleep on the floor where she had been 2 minutes earlier playing with her doll house, or she'd fall asleep on the 5 minute drive to the grocery store which makes standing there at the deli waiting for someone to slice your turkey absolutely no fun at all. She needed that nap.
That's how April through about July went.
Towards the end of summer we tried just getting her to take a nap in her bed. Tuck her in. Give her a kiss. "Sweet Dreams. See you when you wake up and we'll go to the playground." And then we'd be downstairs paying bills or cleaning out the garage and we'd hear her on the monitor doing everything BUT sleeping. "Hey! Let's pull every dress I own off the hangers in my closet and try them all on. Wouldn't it be cool if I pulled all my books off my shelves and stomped on them?"
We'd go up three or twelve times and do the tuck-in again and after an hour or so of that, we'd just give up.
By about September, we realized that she'd sleep with us if we laid down next to her. We could bribe her upstairs and into a bed if it wasn't HER bed. So, each Saturday afternoon, I'd stop folding laundry the minute she was done with lunch, make a big deal about the girls only nap we were going to take, climb in our bed with her and sing to her and stroke her little head until she was out cold. Then I would slowly sneak out, trying to do the pillow replacement strategy (you know where you wrap her hand around the pillow in hopes of fooling the child into believing it's really you?) close both doors leading to our room so she's in the soundproof chamber, and get back to the gazillion chores I can only do when she is gone or asleep.
That worked for a while. Until she peed in our bed a few times(hers has the plasticy thing for such occasions. Ours does not). Plus, she was demanding our bed at nighttime and it also meant our room was out of commission for a few hours and I couldn't go in there while she slept. The other issue was that Daddy would not work in this situation. If he laid down with her, here's how that went:
Drew asleep in 2 minutes. GirlChild downstairs. Drew has no clue she's even missing.
By November, we convinced her that she must sleep in her own bed. And she does each weekend day. But not without great effort both days (and don't even get me started on Christmas Break). Now, she has lunch and we say about, oh, 13 times as she eats, 'Ok, right after lunch, it's nap time. Straight upstairs. Nap time. No arguments."
She and I go up. She insists on jammies. Change clothes. Turn on this humidifier that we really only use for the sound at this point. (It sounds kind of like a jet engine and buffers her obscenely loud older brother who insists on singing and talking and yelling down to us from the playroom as she sleeps).
We snuggles into her bed with the appropriate friends. Madeline. Stanley. Pink Bunny. Sookie. And then, basically, I proceed to hypnotize her. It's really the only way I know to describe it. She rolls over on her side and faces me and she stares at my while I sing and scratch her head. I could just as easily dangle a pocket watch in front of her eyes and tell her, "You're getting very sleepy...The sounds of my voice is making you veeeery sleepy." It works about the same way. I sing quietly and gradually get slower and quieter and her eyelids get heavy and then it's all over and I sneak out.
Drew has attempted on many occasions to duplicate my nap magic to no avail. If Mommy is not present at naptime, the girl does not nap. This is both a blessing and a burden. It's nice to have this thing with her. But it would also be nice if someone else knew the secret recipe. Still, it reminds me of when I was nursing her-that quiet time with her looking up at me. Having to stop whatever I was doing so I could be completely present with her. She only relaxes if I relax. God works in mysterious ways, after all.
For my dear pregnant friend who now gets to sleep in on Sundays and snuggle and have lots of fun sex and go to breakfast and then come home and nap...As you're watching this keep in mind the four (five?) glasses of wine I drank the night before:
I'm going to return to my list of Misc. any day now. For now, consider this a commercial break, so to speak, of GirlChild "Doing Mommy's hair" while Daddy videotapes it for posterity. Both kids are fresh out of the shower and looking for a way to fill up the few hours before dinnertime.
I love how she speaks in my voice, telling me I have yogurt in my hair (which is what she hears me tell her constantly), telling me to look up, saying she's sorry when she slices my scalp with the comb.
In the end, it was the Mommy-on-the-camera (as opposed to the real Mommy in front of her) I think she was most interested in.
Here's the first video from Vegas which will, perhaps, explain why I made no money gambling and why my children will be attending Community College...
In my defense, a few minutes later, one of the casino dudes walked over and started chatting with me. When I asked him for detailed instructions on how to operate a slot machine (feeling only slightly like a total dumb ass), he informed me that my machine was broken.
Well, the good news is that I'm finally sober. Yes, one of THOSE weekends. Boot camp is so going to SUCK so hard tomorrow. I will pay steeply for the fun I have had this weekend. But still, I'd do it all over again. Butterscotch sundae and all.
Drew had been hinting around since Mother's Day that there was a lil sumpin sumpin up his sleeve and Thursday night, he told me to pack a bag. He had considered packing for me, I guess, to sustain the surprise, but thought it best to let me do it myself A wise men, he is.
So, at 3:30 on Friday, he emailed me some directions of where to go. It turned out to be the Glenn Hotel in Atlanta. Tres cool. It's gotten a ton of press for it's uber chic decor, the rooftop lounge withe DJ that overlooks the city, and the BED restaurant downstairs. He arranged for my dear friend to come out and stay with the kids overnight and said he'd be there later on. I arrived and hung out in the room for a bit. Got to know the mini-bar. Took some shots:
Our lovely room. (The Teddy bear on the bed could have been mine for $20 said the tag around his neck.) Check out the so-called "peek-a-boo shower with a window that opens to the bedroom. Really.
Shortly after Drew arrived, I handed him the camera and, as you can see from the progression of pictures, I had me a good ole time... I think the combination of eating dinner in bed and chocolate martinis was just too much for me to resist. Seriously, if the hostess asks you if you'd like a table or a bed, who says, "Table?"
Afterwards, we walked a few blocks down to the Tabernacle and got to see the Kings of Leon play (which is fitting since I have been obsessed with this song for weeks). We got to watch all the twenty-somethings get drunk and make out (or thrown out in some cases) which was an added bonus. Let's just say, I saw a whole lot of Keith Partridge hair. Also, one girl was wearing the exact outfit I wore my first day of seventh grade. You think I'm kidding.
Here's how it looked. Sorry about the audio, but this was an imprompu, "Hey, I just remembered my camera can shoot video" moment...
Saturday night was more of the same, only no big-shot band. Just a lot of wine and food. Oh, and then some more wine. It was hard to get back into the swing of it today. Lucky for me, Monday is right around the corner with all its mundaneness and work and commuting. That relentless 60 Minutes clock is ticking it away right now. Goodbye fun weekend.
