Scaring the #@)%*# out of me...
It's funny, as mothers, how we always wait for moments. Like I couldn't wait for The Dictator to start walking, for example.
Until last night, that is....
I'm not saying The Dictator is, um, slow...but she kind of is. Like it took her more than three years to realize that she could just get out of her bed anytime she wanted. There were no sidebars, no gates.
In fact, I think she's been in her Big Girl Bed now for a year and a half....
Ok, I used to watch SuperNanny. And I saw how many times parents had to put their bratty kids back into bed. There was this one show, I swear, that this kid got out of his bed 46 times before finally going to sleep.
The Dictator only recently realized she could get out of her bed. Which has turned bedtime into, well, it's turned it into an hour and a half, um, "experience."
Meaning, the teeth have been brushed, the face has been washed, the pjs have been put on, we read a few books.
Thank god, The Dictator is such a bad negotiator. At least I can say that. She's like, "I want you to read me ten books." Then I'll say, "I'll read you four books." Then she'll say, "No, I want you to read me two books." (Man, I hope she doesn't end up being a lawyer...She's just plain bad at negotiating.)
Anyway, after all that, and aftere three hundred hugs and kissess, and figuring out what animal she should sleep with, I feel like my day is done...I just want to vedge out in front of the TV.
But, as I've said, recently she's FINALLY realized that she's not in lock down. She gets out of bed and tells me, "I'm not tired." (Throw in tantrum to show that she really is overly-tired.)
But I can deal with that at her bedtime. She's not gotten out of bed more than three times. So I imagine I'm quite lucky. But then....
Last night at around 3 a.m. I felt someone staring at me. I swear to God I had no idea where I was, who I was, what was happening. I honestly thought maybe I was having a nightmare. Or getting robbed.
But, nope. It was The Dictator who told me she didn't want to sleep in her bed. Somehow, she had made it down the long hallway, in the dark, walked around to my side of the bed, and found my face - all in the pitch black.
She basically scared the crap out of me. I just pulled her up and we fell asleep. That was until The Fiance lost it, because apparently he only had two-inches of bed. He stormed out sometime around 5 a.m. and headed somewhere else to sleep.
So, basically, I guess what I'm saying is that, well, I hope this isn't the new routine. I mean, I've just managed to stop sleeping in her bed..but now she's in mine....