The Dictator is Furious...

at me.

Well, at least she was last night at about midnight. I don't think I've ever had someone that mad at me.

I was super exhausted from attending an evening yoga class (the instructor only called out my name 22 times last night to correct my postures. It was a great class! As a side note, how is it that yoga instructors who have never met you always know your name? Ok, I know they probably watch us sign in our names, but how do they actually remember our names? Anyway...)

I mean going to an evening yoga class was great in the sense that the class ended at 7:45 p.m. which meant I got home at 8 p.m. which meant The Dictator should have been in bed.

It's just been one of those weeks (OK, two weeks) where the Dictator hasn't slept through the night, so again I'm a walking talking zombie. Well, a walking zombie who can almost put together a sentence.

The point is, I was excited that maybe she'd be in bed. When I'm at home, she only lets me put her to bed. But when someone else does it, she seems to go to bed a lot easier and quicker and falls asleep almost immediately.

In any case, I was so exhausted from this so-NOT-a-Level-One yoga class (even though it was, in fact, a level one yoga class) that I was in bed by 10:30 p.m. which is really early for me. I'm a night person. I could watch re-runs of Will and Grace until one in the morning. Ok, now I'm really sounding pathetic, but it's true.

Anyway, I was so fast asleep until I heard my daughter sudden wailing, "Mommee!!! Where are you?? WHERE ARE YOU? WHERE ARE YOU?"

I thought if I ignored her, it might be one of those far and few between lucky times when she'd just fall back asleep.

She so did not fall back asleep. She just kept screaming, "WHERE ARE YOU? YOU HAVE TO SLEEP WITH ME!!!!!"

I trudged to her room and she started screaming at me that I was "NEVER supposed to not sleep with her."

"You are always supposed to sleep with me," she screamed. "You are never supposed to sleep in the other bed. NEVER!"

I mean, the gal was pissed off at me. Truly pissed off.

Because I was half asleep I didn't really want to get into explaining how or why I couldn't always sleep with her. I just wanted to sleep. I also was so not going to beg for forgiveness - "I'm so sorry, sweetie. I promise I'll always sleep with you - because she's three and I'm so not always going to sleep with her. And, really, do you have to beg for forgiveness to a three-year old.

Granted, I do hate when she gets mad at me.

I just got into her bed and slept in a wet patch of diet ginger ale on her Dora the Explorer sheets that are about as comfortable as sleeping on sandpaper.

Yes, diet ginger ale is the drink of choice she goes to bed with these days. She doesn't actually drink it, so much as just hold the cup, so please don't yell at me because I let my child go to bed with a sippy cup of diet Canada Dry, that leaks all over the bed that I ended up sleeping in.

Please, I already have a three year old mad at me.