Toddlers— so literal

 Sometimes I am THE WORST, and I don't even MEAN to be.

The other night, Minnie was off her routine. I think her naps have gotten too long again. For a little while there, Ben and I were both super good about waking her up at the exact 90--minute mark. But you know-- April the cruelest month (esp. in academia), etc, and her naps have crept back up to a couple of hours.

I had a late night on campus because I stayed until 7 so I could bing Coop home from dive, and when we got home, Minnie was happily splashing in her bath like a baby seal. She was thrilled to see me (I MISSED YOU HO MUCH) (I love that she cannot pronounce "s" at the beginning of a word and uses "h" instead). I was impressed that she was bathed before Dorothy even got home from dance and anticipated an early bedtime for her and for me.

But then! Midway through her interminable lotion/jammies/book/nursing situation, she was like I HAVE A TOMACH ACHE. DADDY TAKE ME TO THE DOCTAH. We weren't sure if she was saying that her stomach hurt or if she was recounting her Easter morning ED experience, but she got more insistent. She finally hollered I NEED A NACK.

She ate SO MUCH you guys! Banana, strawberries, a clementine, a piece of toast with peanut butter. Dorothy came home (Harry is THE EST-- he took her dance and brought his pre-calc stuff so he could study and wait to bring her home) and took a shower and I took a shower, and Minnie was still eating. She nursed, had a bottle and a refill in her crib (TERRIBLE FOR HER TEETH— I KNOW), and finally went to sleep way after 9.

At 1:00 she screamed MO BABA (which means “I would like another something to drink please”), and she never really fell back to sleep. We both slept sort of, listening to her talk to her toys and complain quietly. She started crying around 2, so I brought her to bed with me (I am too tired in the middle of the night to make good choices). She just laid there STARING AT ME. I would doze, and then she would just STARE until I opened my eyes.

After 45 minutes, I was like, “Minnie, it’s night night time. You gotta go to sleep so I can go to sleep. I can’t take care of you tomorrow if I don’t get some sleep.” Ugh— the library— making cookies— playing Lego, etc— all the things she wanted to do the next day and talked loudly about during her bedtime routine. They sounded like a lot on 3 hours of sleep.

Ben offered to go sleep on the floor in her room, so she could go back in her crib, but she said, “No. I nuggle in Dada’s bed.”

I happily passed her over to Ben, and, magically, all three of us fell asleep.

Somewhere in there, I changed my 5:40 alarm to a 6:30 alarm and figured I could cut out the cup of coffee and Wordle in bed part of my wake up routine and phone my workout in/move yoga to nap time. At 6:30, Ben and Minnie were still sleeping, so I tiptoed out of the room and took a quick walk. I broke up fights between the other kids, jumped on the elliptical, listened to the sounds of Ben and Minnie stirring above me, etc.

By 7:30, Harry and Jack were almost out the door; I was adequately exercised but under-caffeinated; the three youngest kids had breakfast, and Ben was ready to go. I went into our room to say good morning to Minnie (she eats breakfast every day in Ben’s bed), and she looked at me with big serious eyes and said, MAMA. YOU TAKE CARE A ME TODAY PUH-WEASE?

I felt terrible! She took an off-hand, middle-of-the-night comment SO SERIOUSLY, the poor baby.

But, I mean. At least she went to sleep?

(Literally would never let her watch Super Why and eat yogurt in my bed)

(We made cookies right away)