Bedtime

Belize was super tired tonight. She took an early nap in the car, followed by swimming in the pool and then a playdate at Zara's house. And when Belize is tired just expect to jump through several hundred hoops unless you want a mondo meltdown. Brannon and I like to call it, "Don't rock the boat." Problem was since Brannon is working a late shift and I have a hard time going to bed before midnight, PLUS the kids were up AN HOUR before their usual wake up time, well, by the end of the day Shauna was one cranky momma and not in a mood to put up with one cranky toddler. Bad combo.

It started out okay- picture me jumping through hoops.

Then it started to wear- picture me jumping slower.

And then it got bad- my feet have tangled up in the hoop and i'm falling to the hard pavement in a powerless heap like a train-wreck in real time, not slow motion.

Picture:

I finally just pick Belize up and carry her to bed crying. She's on her bed yelling, "I want a drink of WATER!!!" It HAS been quite hot today and i haven't seen her drink anything in a while. I give in. We go to the bathroom and after an argument about drinking "too cold" water I lose it. I tell her, "No water, you need to go to bed." Then, I pick her up still crying and put her in bed. Then the thing that crawls under my skin and bangs on my brain with a metal hammer. She repeats over and over again, "I want some water, I want some water, I want some water!!!!" I try everything to calm her down, to get her back to reason. Problem is that she is too busy yelling, "I want some water!" to hear anything I'm saying. So finally in vain I say, "Belize if you say the word water one more time I'm leaving."

She pauses.

And then, "I want some water." I promptly walk out of the room and close the door. I'm thinking to myself, Good for you Shauna! You put your foot down and you didn't yell or smother her head in a 2 lbs of jello."

Suddenly I hear an explosion (figuratively), Belize is screaming at the top of her lungs, "I want my mommy!!!!" You would think that this would melt my heart and I would turn right around-maybe I am weird but listening to a child scream your name when not in pain is just infuriating to me. Who feeds you? Who takes care of you? Who puts on 6 new pairs of underwear a day when you decide to take them off in random places? Don't abuse the word MOM! It should be said lovingly, sacredly, certainly not for your sick twisted torture.

Then, I remember that she's only two and she's really tired and I turn around and go back into her room, completely defeated by my toddler but telling myself, I'm doing the right thing.

And for this I was pricelessly rewarded:

B (screaming): I don't want Dad! I don't want Rio! I want my mommy!

I pick her up and she hugs my neck. Her breathing slows.

B: I only want you to sleep with me.

I lay in bed with her.

B (like she had never cried in the first place): I like your breath Mom, I really like it. (See this post)

B: Put your arms around me. Thanks, it doesn't hurt.

The end.

This all happened in the matter of 5 or so minutes, but it took 1/2 an hour to write. It was a cooler story in my head then it came out and I'm not sure if it was post worthy for all of my worldly aquaintance but there it is and its my blog anyhow. ;)