WARNING: The following post contains copious amounts of complaining. If such things annoy you please avert your eyes.
Ruthie has discovered the endless joys of bedtime torture that come with sleeping in a Big Girl Bed. I swear her butt is made of rubber because she bounces straight out of bed before you can say “Pour me a drink, the kids are in bed!”
As an introvert I find it quite disturbing to be around my children from 5am until after 9pm, day in and day out. It does things to me.
Tonight we happened to be at a friend’s for dinner, and as we talked into the evening Ruthie grew quieter, then resorted to sucking her right thumb while playing with her left ear, until she actually began clawing at the front door and whined, “Home! Home! Home!”
“See Ruthie?” I exclaimed with great indignation. “Not so much fun when the shoe’s on the other foot, huh???”
Sometimes I wonder who the adult is in this relationship.
I just want things to go MY WAY. I want my kids to wake up smiling and perky at a healthy 8am, and I want their bathed and neatly pajama-ed bodies back in bed by 7pm, and I want them to ask for carrot sticks and apples for snacks, and I want them to say, “Okay mom!” when I yell at them to not run into the street.
Is that so much to ask?