My husband once said, “I never know what I’m going to get when I come home. Z is like a little terrorist, minus the towel, she runs around the house all day long blowing shit up. Sometimes the wife can’t keep up.”

At the time, I didn’t give it much thought. I mean, ya it’s true, she blows shit up, and I have a hard time maintaining control, but I wouldn’t necessarily call her a terrorist.

However, now that I think of it, I completely agree.

I’m not talking about the disaster that is my house on a daily basis, I’m talking about BEDTIME.

Bedtime at my house is like negotiating with a terrorist.

You know that saying, pick your battles, well I do, and bedtime is one of those battles that I choose to ignore, for the most part anyways.

Let me give you an example. This is how bedtime went tonight…….

Me: “Bedtime Z, go give Daddy a hug and kiss.”

She then proceeds to give Daddy a hug, a kiss, another hug, and one more just for good measure.

Me: “Okay let’s go.”

Z: “Oh, TV off.”

Me: “Okay, turn the TV off, now get to bed.”

Z: “Kassy hug!”

She then searches the entire house for Kassy, completely ignoring Mya, who happens to be laying right there on the floor in front of her. I’m not stupid, I know that as soon as she steps foot into her room she’ll somehow remember that she forgot to give Mya a hug……………and she does.

We finally get to her room……

Me: “Come on, let’s get into bed.”

I try to lift her up into her bed….

Z: “I DO IT, I DO IT.”

In other words, she wants to take her sweet time climbing ever so slowly, into her bed. I bite my tongue…….

She finally gets her butt into bed, that’s when she points to her evaporator.

Z: “More water Momma!”

She’s right….I forgot to fill DAMN tank!

Me: “Okay, Momma will get it Z, lay down. I will be right back.”

I rush into the kitchen, fill the tank, and rush back. I immediately grab a book and start reading. Once finished I try to tuck her in.

Z: “Daddy fluff pillow!”

Me: “I will fluff your pillow Z.”

Z: “NO! Daddy do it!”

Of course! What was I thinking…..

So after Daddy fluffs the damn the pillow, receives another round of hugs and kisses, and leaves, I once again try to tuck her in.

Z: “Pee-pee Momma!”

SERIOUSLY!

So I pick her up, get to the bathroom, she does her thing, and we head back to the room. But before we step over the threshold, she says, “Daddy talk.”

Me: “What, you want to talk to Daddy?”

Z: “YES!”

I’m losing my patience…. I can physically see it leaving my body…..yep, it’s gone……

Me: “NO! Get to bed NOW Z!”

Z: “DADDY TALK!!!”

Me: “NO!!”

We finally get back to her bed. I tuck her in, give her a kiss and a hug, and turn to leave the room…..

Z: “Bear hug Momma.”

Okay, so I give her another hug, this time with a growl, and turn to leave the room…..

Z: “Squeeze Momma.”

Okay, one more hug with a squeeze coming right up…..

Me: “Night-night Z.”

Z: “Night-night Momma.”

I literally run for the door at this point, trying to get the HELL out before she asks for anything else.

I made it……Sigh……..Finally, she’s in bed.

Z: “Duckey, where are you!”

CRAP! Duckey’s on the kitchen table……I’m pretty sure she planted in there when I wasn’t looking, cause I swear that thing was in her bed!

So I grab duckey, rush back into her room, hand it to her, and beeline it for the door……

Z: “Momma wait!”

Me: “What Z!”

Z: “Night-night Momma……Love you.”

Aaaaahhhhhhhhh…..

Me: “I love you too Baby.”

Yes, she’s a terrorist, but she’s my little terrorist and I love her soooooo much!

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