Wednesday, July 18, 2012

Mommy (dearest) Moment

Sunday was a tough day. Can't (don't wanna) go into all of the details (yet) but long story short: it sucked. A big ass stress ball of suck. It was nap time for the kids, and as it happens when they are both going down at the same time - sometimes it's easier to put L in our room and JJ in their room. No distraction, JJ doesn't try talking to L - sometimes gaining a second wind, thus nap time being a colossal fail. And this particular Sunday, I wanted them to nap. I wanted to sit on the couch and do nothing. I didn't even have the TV on. Just sitting. In quiet.

They haven't been feeling well, so that doesn't actually help matters - everyone is a scooch too whiny and cranky. It's awesome. I put L in our room and JJ in hers and all was right with the world.

For 5 minutes.

L comes down stairs about 5-10 minutes later saying she can't sleep without the smoke machine. Meaning her humidifier, which is in the girls' room - not ours. Which is where she should be sleeping in that moment. It doesn't make sense for me to go in their room, try to unhook it, and move it at this point.  I tell her to shake it off and go to sleep, but she's whiny and cranky - and to be fair - stuffed up. I concede; she can go in her room but we have to SO quiet because we can't wake up the baby.  She agrees and creep into the room we go.

I set up the humidifier and L starts whining saying she wants her cat stuffed animal that is currently in our bed. Home girl has about 49,865,374 other stuffed animals in her room - so I tell her to choose one of those, I'm not coming in and out, the baby is sleeping. Be quiet. She asks again, the same kind of exchange - we are whispering - and at this point I'm hissing at her to be quiet. Right as I go to leave, a 3 foot tall stuffed raccoon comes crashing down on the stupid ass smoke machine and not only spills water everywhere but wakes up the beast JJ. Somehow she falls right back to sleep (first time ever) and I turn to leave, hissing to L to be quiet, go to bed, and stop with the cat. Go to sleep.

5 minutes later I hear the bitter patter of lead foot L coming in and out of their room into mine, doors are slamming (accidentally, but slamming none the less) and the baby wakes up (shocking). I go to run up the stairs yelling "L, that BETTER NOT BE YOU!" And I hear something drop, like plastic to the floor.

I go in the girls' room and survey the scene.

The baby is screaming and crying. L is (pretending to be) sleeping. And positioned as only road kill can be positioned, the f'ing cat is laying out on the floor. That was the plastic dropping. She heard me scream, panicked, and left the cat on the floor as road kill.

I picked up the cat and launched it at her, not hitting her with it (because I have horrible aim) and hissed something about "are you happy now?"  I took the baby out, brought her downstairs and starting making her a bottle. Before I fed my poor over tied, sick, and hungry kid I marched up the stairs on a (crazy mom) mission.

I busted into her room like a bat out of hell - dropped JJ in her crib (crying) and took crazy mom to a whole 'nother level. Muttering in angry phrases like:
  • You want to not listen to me? 
  • I'll show you to not listen. 
  • You wanted the cat, and now you will snuggle with NOTHING!
  • Wake up your sister. Are you kidding me? 
  • Unbelievable. 
As the crazy words came out of my mouth I took armfuls of stuffed animals, toys, and dolls and took them all out of her room. In my crazy haze, I even took whatever was in JJ's crib out. I launched them into our office. The strange thing (well, actually there was a lot of strange going on - if I'm being honest) was that she didn't even really freak out. It's like she knew she was lucking out. She knew she messed up, so while she teared up a bit - she wasn't melting down that all of her beloved animals and dolls were being forcefully removed from her room.

She can earn a few animals back at a time and our office will look like the toy aisle for a bit, but I believe my point was taken. Apparently parenting like a lunatic really works, who knew?

Toy (story) graveyard. Where good toys go when their is girl is bad.

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