Today we woke up at 2:30 AM. Yeppppppppppp. Charlotte was in her crib acting like a maniac so I ignored her, but then as I was watching her on the monitor I noticed she was acting really weird. She looked like she couldn’t stand up, was trying to take off her shirt and twisting her body around like a contortionist. It was very strange so I assumed something was bothering her. I’m such an idiot. She was fine, of course. She just found new ways to beat the system and get out of her crib when she wants to be awake. The second I opened the door she said HIIIIII and stood up. What a fucking sucker I am.
So the next three hours involved a lot of fighting, a lot of crying (from both of us), a lot of pleading with the good Lord Jesus to MAKE THIS CHILD SLEEP, a refusal on my part to turn on any lights or television or let her play with any toys, a shit ton of hair pulling (she was literally ripping my hair out of my head), more crying, and the perfection of saying our babysitters name around 4 AM. She fell back asleep around 5:30, which is when I have to get up for work. Good thing I was already up for 3 hours though, right? Then I was brushing my teeth again at 6:30 and she must have heard the toothbrush because she is an absolute psychopath, and I saw her rise up from my bed like a mummy erupting from a coffin to the sleepy screams of TEETHHHHH TEETHHHHHHH. Because she wants my toothbrush. Never hers, always mine.
I am certain I am going to die today. Honestly, the only time I want to hear this child at 2:30 AM is if she somehow knows the winning numbers to the mega millions so that we can buy a nice big mansion and I can put my bedroom FAR AWAY FROM HERS. She is doing an EXCELLENT job of making sure she is an only child. I really never want to do this again.
*Disclaimer: The majority of my blog posts detail the terrible, horrible, no good very bad things that happen with Charlie girl. And I mostly write about these incidents because they’re amusing (most of the time), they help me vent, and they are real life child situations that I think some people, if not most, can relate to. Wouldn’t you be horribly bored if all I did was write about how cute and pretty and smart she is? I would want to stab me. But I’ll leave you with this. After she pulled my hair and I started to cry (I was exhausted and it hurt, and as immature as crying over an 18-month old pulling your hair may sound, it was warranted) she cuddled in next to me and started to rub my cheeks and kiss me. She puckers her lips and makes little smacking sounds and licks my cheeks. And for those few kisses I forgot how badly I was considering drugging her back to sleep.