It is 7:40 at my house, which means I am at the verge of victory in the bedtime battle. My saintly husband is doing daddy duty by reading a book. I am sitting on the couch waiting for my turn - the nightly singing ritual.
I treasure our time together after reading - laying in the dark, singing songs and hearing rare information about my daughter's day. It is a special time, a time when we can connect with no defiance, no agenda, just me and her connected in love.
But getting there? That's a battle.
There's the running around the house, sucking on a pacifier that is strictly for bedroom use only (don't lecture me, she's only 3.5 and I know she won't have a paci when she walks down the aisle at her wedding). There's the complete defiance about putting on the diaper and pajamas. There's the singing and playing that only a true master dawdler can create.
Then there's the out and out battles: no to the potty, no to the toothbrush, kicking and screaming no to the pajamas. It is the end of the day and my mommy bank is empty of empathy, patience, and unconditional love, and all I can think is that soon she will be corralled into her bed and into darkness, the star light will be on, and she and I will spend a few precious moments together. SO WHY CAN'T SHE JUST GO TO BED ALREADY?
Haha, the everpresent mom dilemma. Why won't my child just behave so we can have fun?
One day my daughter will no longer be 3 years old. Sure there are things I'll miss, but honestly? I think I'll really be glad when she's potty trained, not dependent on the paci, and ready to cooperate again.
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