Have you guys ever been to a Broadway show?  Actually, it doesn’t even have to be a Broadway show, it could be a high school production for friggin’ Annie for all I care.  Do you see the work and effort that goes into putting on a production?  The costumes, the lights, the line memorization, the songs, the music.  So many moving parts come together to make a magical evening for all involved.  I imagine that I could put together a production of any musical or any play in the world and it would be easier than getting Charlotte to go to bed.  Getting her to get into her bed and be quiet and sleep and STAY THERE is harder than a matinee performance of Wicked.  I could probably play Glinda and Elphaba at the same damn time and it would be easier than dealing with this child.

Last night we put on the performance of A Midsummer Night’s Nightmare.  The critics give it 0 stars because it was horrible.  And by critics I mean me.  The curtain opens and we begin.

Scene one.  She wasn’t tired she told me.  She didn’t want to wear her pajamas.  Then she wanted to wear her fish pajamas, but not with the pants.  Then she didn’t want to wear a shirt she wanted to wear a nightgown.  Then she decided she wanted to wear her fish pajama shirt with a different set of shorts.  This took 20 minutes of negotiations and years off my life.  After this, she wanted “a yittle bit of milk.”  I told her absolutely not because she already had milk and she already brushed her teeth and we weren’t going to start going to sleep with a bottle in bed.  We are now in scene 2 of tonight’s performance and she really brought the drama here.  The wailing, the crying, the pounding of the fists.  I told her she could have water and she gave in to that.  So I exit stage right and get her water, which she doesn’t drink, but wants to tuck into bed with her.  I guess she wanted another scene partner or something.  So now I am holding her with a tucked in bottle of water in between my boobs.

Scene three.  Lights out.  She requests songs, but then covers my mouth as I sing them.  She requests that I tell her a story about when she was in my belly.  I tell her these were happier times.  I am the miserable antagonist in this performance.  Then she wants to switch blankets with me, but then switch them back.  This goes on for a while.  I lose my will to live.

Scene four.  I tell her if she doesn’t go to sleep she is never getting a lollipop for the rest of her life.  She cries, as one does when they are threatened with such horrible prospects.  She asks me to sing again and she starts to fall asleep, 45 minutes after we have begun this shitty play.

Scenes 5-666.  She wakes up every time I try to move.  She wakes up when I finally leave the room, three times.  She wakes up when I take the bottle of water out of her bed.  Her only line in the rest of this production is “mommy lay! mommy lay!”  My only line in the rest of this production is “someone please save me from this hell.”

The play ends.  She goes to bed after almost 2 hours of me begging for mercy.  I go to bed without eating because I have no willpower to even microwave leftovers.

12:30 AM. She begins anew.  The play isn’t over yet.  The beast has awoken.

Abandon all hope ye who enter here.

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