Winner of the Giveaway
Congratulations goes out to Ms. Loni Broesch of Madison, Wisconsin, as she won the bath/personal care basket yesterday. My sincerest appreciation goes out to all of you: what a fun thing it was to do, and how interesting to meet new readers!
Stay tuned, because later this week I’ll be announcing the next giveaway. And here’s a hint: EVERYONE and ANYONE will appreciate this one. We’re talking universal appeal here, people. It’s basic, but extremely useful. (And no, it’s not cash – get a grip!)
Amy, Warrior Princess, Strikes Again
I have been pondering whether to share something with you for quite some time now. My hesitation is that this thing doesn’t highlight one of my finer parenting moments. [Wipe that smirk off your face right now!] While I realize many of you are crystal clear on just how mediocre a mother I am, this may well drop me a few notches in your eyes.
So here goes.
As you may remember reading, Amy turned four years old this past Sunday. You may also recall that Amy was extremely, uh, reluctant to acknowledge this milestone. Yeah, I shared all that stuff with you, but I didn’t share the main reason WHY she would have preferred to stay three.
You see, being the horrible mom that I am, up until Sunday night, Amy still used a nuk. A binky. A paci.
Yes, I know how ridiculous that is. A three-year-old’s oral fixation can damage her teeth alignment and jaw growth, potentially stunt her development, and make her a overall Genuine Outcast.
Well, let’s just say it, shall we? It ain’t pretty, but that’s the just the kind of mother I am. Sometimes, anyway.
So, yes, even me with my magical powers of denial, I knew we were well past the point of being able to ignore this unhealthy habit. In hopes of sugar-coating what to Amy would be VERY negative, I figured that distracting her with all the fun and interesting aspects that define a birthday celebration might be one way to ease the transition.
Let’s recap: Sunday she turned four.
Which meant: Sunday night was pure hell.
She sobbed. She cried. She shrieked. She threw herself against the door. (To add to the insanity of this, I can guarantee you right now that my mother is really, REALLY wishing that I didn’t publicize my stupidity for all the world to read, and that she’s really, REALLY happy that I finally stopped using my maiden name.)
And yes, I told her [Amy – stay with me here] to stop it.
And she would, for a little while, but then she’d try something newly annoying or destructive, and, well, rinse and repeat.
This went on for HOURS. She begged me for something to put into her mouth. I told her that’s why God gave us teeth and tongues, and that was all that He meant to be in our mouths when we no longer needed to be bottle-fed.
She didn’t buy it.
I was up shushing and threatening her and being downright mean and nasty and punitive All.Night.Long. At 12:30 a.m. 1:45 a.m. 3:00 a.m.
I think the final occurrence was about 3:50 a.m. Should she have gotten me up once more, I’m pretty sure I’d be writing this post from Taycheedah, or from a hospital where I’d been placed on a psych hold, because ONE MORE TIME and I would literally have drop-kicked my Blondini (her nickname) off my deck. And my deck is about 15 feet off the ground. [And hubby, if that guesstimate is wrong, I don’t want to know about it. Just work with me here, OK?]
So Monday night, I am wearily approaching bedtime trying to think of new ways to force her compliance. Needless to say, I was flat-out exhausted, so where I can at times be creative and innovative, those brain cells were not working. At all. In fact, my Inventiveness And Child-rearing Problem Solving Skills were utterly catatonic.
And you know what? She didn’t make a PEEP! She did ask me as I tucked her in if I could please please pretty please with sugar and a cherry on top give her something to put in her mouth. And I said no. And she teared up. And then we said a final prayer and played “who loves me” and I tucked her in, and that was that.
The next morning, feeling somewhat rested, I told myself that her exhaustion had finally gotten the better of her, and she simply couldn’t be awake any longer.
After a second quiet and calm night, I told myself: See? She was just ready! This really worked out well, after all: I didn’t have to wrestle it out of her teeth as she got on the school bus, and we were all sleeping through the night, and that really wasn’t so bad after all!
Yeah, it’s coming. Just wait for it.
Tonight I read her Froggy’s Baby Sister, said prayers, played “who loves me,” put Vaseline on her chin and lower lip (some chapping going on there), hugged and kissed her about 20 times, and then I went to tuck her in. I mean, literally pull all the covers up around her.
And here was Snoozers, her most favoritest teddy in the whole wide world, wedged quite far under the covers. I pulled him out, but part of Snoozers felt really, REALLY wet and slimy.
I felt Snoozers’ tail, which is, though fabric, about nuk size.
“Amy?? Have you been SUCKING ON SNOOZERS’ TAIL instead of your nuk??????!!!!” (Be sure to hear my pitch and tone escalate with each word of that sentence.)
She smiles. Then she realizes I’m dead-dog serious.
Her smile fades.
Her lip starts to quiver and her chin goes down an inch.
“But I didn’t MEAN to, Mommy! It was an accident! Not on purpose, on accident!”
I shake my head, incredulous. And then, another oddity occurs to me.
“Amy, did you HIDE Snoozers so I didn’t see his wet tail?”
She looks at me full on, trying to gage my exact mood at that minute.
Then she cocks her head a little and puts on a small grin and says, “I was pretty sure he wanted to play hide-and-seek, Mom, so really, I was just helping him out.”
Did I happen to mention she’s only FOUR, people??!! O.M.G!!!
















{ 5 comments… read them below or add one }
Well, when you look at that picture of you holding her as an infant…well, you can just see it in those eyes – she simply knows everything.
Good luck with this one, Melissa – she’s going to give you a real run for the money!
Yep, Mary, you’re sooooo right. As hubby keeps reminding me, SHE is going to be our biggest parenting challenge yet. And that’saying something!!
I can’t wait for another 10-12 years.
Really, DJ? I’m so glad to hear that, because in about a decade, I’m sure Amy will be ready to live in an all new city, and you and Jim can whip her little teenage attitude into shape.
Oh I just had to send you an email about this blog…..I can SOOOOOO relate!! Good Luck!!