Battles. With an almost three year old. And my husband. Because he's a sucker.

11:25 AM

It's been one of those weekends.  The kind that makes you want to hit the eject button and leave the room screaming. 

This weekend my child challenged every fiber in my body.  Saturday morning began like every other morning, except Cameryn's ears decided that they need to block out every single word that I was saying.  I had to stop, multiple times, get down directly in front of her face and tell her, slowly, exactly what I expected of her.  Sunday was much of the same.  By Sunday night I had had enough.  You know what I'm talking about, you've been there.

Cameryn didn't want to eat, unless it involved chocolate chip muffins.  She didn't want to nap.  She didn't want to do anything but cry until she got her way.  Each time, I carried her to her room and let her continue to have it out, with herself.  Because the child is smart.  She pushes the boundaries, every single time. 

Bedtime is a battle.  My husband and I have differing views on how bedtime should go.  I believe that a child should be tucked in, kissed goodnight, and go to sleep.  BY THEMSELF.   I don't want to lay in her bed while she falls asleep.  I don't allow her to sleep in my bed.  Cameryn is a manipluator.  She will walk to her room, get in to bed, and then suddenly she is hungry.  Starving, actually.   And my husband, who cannot let his baby girl go hungry, will allow her to come out of her room and get something to eat.  So now, every night when he is home, she is hungry a full two minutes after she lays down for bed.  Nevermind that she just had a snack thirty minutes ago, she is so hungry that she may actually have to eat Lola the stuffed elephant, because Lola is big.  I tell her to just go ahead and eat the elephant (she won't, she loves that stuffed elephant) but he won't let that happen because he must feed her starving belly! 

And then she starts with "Mommy, lay down with me for a couple whiles, puh-leeease?!"  (A couple whiles is what Cameryn refers to as 'a couple of minutes' or 'a little while.')  So I tuck her in, lay my head on the pillow for a split second and then tell her goodnight.  "Just three more minutes, Mommy, puh-leease?!"  I tell her no, leave the room and not two minutes later, she walks out of her room, "Mommy, I don't want to lay down by myself.  Puh-leeease."  I tell her to get back into bed, where she cries.  Does my Mommy heart ache at the sound of her crying?  Sure, but after thirty minutes of crying, my mommy heart is no longer aching.  My head is. 

My husband is a SUCKER.  He goes in, every single night, and lays down with her until she falls asleep.  Last night she fell asleep, then woke up and only wanted me to lay down with her.  I won't do it.  I refuse.  So she cries.  My husband tells me that I am missing the point  (can anyone else find his point?! If you do figure it out, please tell me, you'll be my Tuesday hero), that she needs to go to bed and I need to lay down with her.  He takes the easy way out.  I won't.  I've been here and I've done this.  I was up with her every four hours, sometimes more, for 15 months of her life giving her breathing treatments thanks to RSV.  She was a crappy sleeper because so many nights I had to sleep with her in the chair and I went to work on 3 hours of sleep for weeks at a time.  I won't do it again.  I won't lay with her until she falls asleep.  I know that she is healthy.  She is not hungry (thanks to her bedtime snack).  She just needs to go to sleep.  She doesn't need us, she wants us.  I know this.  He knows this.   But somehow I am always the one who deals with it.

So we continue to battle it out at night, every night. We moved her bedtime up. We moved it back. We moved it up again. She has a fan in her room for white noise. She has two night lights. She has 5 gazillions animals on her bed that must be there every night.

I try to reason with her, but I forget that she is two, she's going to be manipulative and cry when things don't go her way. Cameryn is an intelligent child and her vocabulary is well beyond that of an almost three year old. She correctly uses words like dangerous and plenty. She talks about animals that most people have never heard of. Her ability to retain information is astounding and while I love this about her I also find it exhausting. I want her to learn everything that she can about the topics that strike her fancy. I want her to be curious, but cautious. I try to answer her many questions honestly with all the knowledge that I have. However, I forget sometimes that she is two, almost three, and that though her language is mature, her emotions are not. I forget that though she is in a big girl bed, she is not yet a big girl and still needs me sometimes.  I just wish it wasn't at 9pm when she should be sleeping and I should be enjoying my glass of wine.  Quietly.

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