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!”
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?”
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!!!”
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.”
Me: “I love you too Baby.”
Yes, she’s a terrorist, but she’s my little terrorist and I love her soooooo much!