I want to start this letter by stating the obvious: I love you. But you’ve been a bit of a jerk this morning, and I’m ready for you to have your nap now. I realize this letter is coming to you approximately 2 hours earlier than your regularly scheduled nap time, but I feel as though it may be a worthwhile cause to pursue, given today’s events.
Shall we review?
First of all, you decided that “today” started at 5:10am. It was pitch black outside, which I explained to you as I opened the curtains for you to see, but you insisted that it was morning. How did you insist? By smacking me in the face when I laid back down on the bed for a brief moment. I grabbed you and quietly guided you out of our room, so that your dad and big sister could continue to sleep while I suffered alone.
When we descended the stairs and I turned on the light to see better, you screamed and cried that it was “too bright! Hurts eyes!” But here’s the thing, kid: it would be that bright if it were actually morning.
As I lay on the couch, semi-comatose, while you played happily with your trucks and dinosaurs, I thought I might be able to get away with a light doze. The moment I closed my eyes, though, you were standing in front of my face, breathing heavily and sticking your finger up my nose. And naturally, once my eyes were open again, you were back to playing by yourself.
When you finally asked for breakfast, all hell broke loose. You’ve been all about the yogurt drinks for the past month, but suddenly today was the day you wanted chocolate for breakfast. Chocolate. And when I said no, you lost your mind. You could’ve won an Oscar for the performance you gave on the kitchen floor, lifting your head to the sky as you sagged to the floor, face bright red and mouth wide open in a soundless (at first) scream. It was glorious. The fists pounding the floor were a nice touch, as well.
Can I just give my humble thanks for shutting your tantrum down at the 15 minute mark? Your generosity on that front, as well as your willingness to lower your standards long enough to have a yogurt drink for breakfast, in the end, was very much appreciated.
Then, you pooped.
And it wasn’t the poop that was the issue. After all, I’ve been dealing with shit for more than 5 years now, between you and your sister. No, it’s the fact that you had been running around without underwear or pants for 10 minutes prior, and while I was tending to your big sister in the bathroom, you decided to sit down on a hand-knitted blanket, made for you both by a relative, and poop right there. Not your most solid poop, by the way. Then, you ran away with poop stuck halfway down your leg, tracking it through the house.
And it’s only 10am.
So, little one, after cleaning up the poop, and stumbling through the rest of this morning, I was wondering if an early nap might be a possibility in your world? Because your mom could really use a break.
Thanks for your consideration.