You know those nights where your kid is up an hour past their bedtime because they want you to rock them and sing? Which sounds all nice and cute and cuddly, but you know your kid better? And you know that your kid is smart slash evil and already knows all the tricks to getting to stay up late? And these tricks include getting Mom to sing songs fo-ev-ah, and if that doesn’t work just scream and cry because that’ll keep you awake?
And you know those nights where your other kid is up in the middle of the night because she wants a drink? And this other kid just happens to be the very same kid who is learning how not to pee in her overnight Pull Up? And you and her both know that a drink in the middle of the night most certainly will come out down south before she wakes up? But it’s 11:00 pm and 3.75 year-olds are none too reasonable at that hour, so you give in and let her have one sip anyway? Which, as predicted, leads to a wet Pull Up in the morning?
And you know those days where you’re trying to get your kid dressed in a hurry because mornings are always a hurry, but they just don’t have their head in the game? They’re all lollygagging around, not listening, running away when you come at them with a clean diaper? And then, out of no where, they start freaking out, flailing and screaming and hitting because they want to wear their pajamas all day? And not the pajamas that they’re currently wearing? They want to wear new, clean pajamas instead of clothes? And that’s a completely unreasonable request because it’s -10° out and you’re pretty sure the judgy people out in public will be all judgy jerks about your ability to parent? And so the hyper-thrashing continues until your kid forgets what the big deal was, which is not before you have a giant, throbbing, headache?
And you know those days where you ask your other kid if she wants to eat breakfast at home or at daycare, secretly hoping she says daycare because, again, mornings are always a hurry? And you’re all “yay!” when she says daycare and you go about your business of chasing after the screaming naked baby, trying to eat breakfast yourself, and packing your lunch? And then exactly 1 minute before you’re about to say “time to get your boots on!” she says “actually, I want to eat breakfast here”? And when you say “too bad, you made your decision and now it’s too late to change your mind” she gets all pissy and screamy and flaily and hitty? And then the hyper-thrashing continues until this other kid forgets what the big deal was, which is not before you have a giant, throbbing headache and an incessant eye twitch?
And you know those days where you start to think “why are they such jerks today?” but you stop yourself because oh, yeah. That’s why.