SS kicked off the festivities last night. She was restless and whinny and ended up kicking her Baba out of the bed. There appears to be a limit to how much kicking P can handle. And I thought I was a restless sleeper. I told P to just place SS in her crib, where she belongs. He did not want to, because she was not wearing footie pajamas and her feet would get cold. I would have put some socks on, and send her on her way. The downside for me, I was unable to return to sleep.
SS woke up soon after P left at 5:30 a.m., and I was praying that she would just go back to sleep. I had a lot to do to get us ready for our mini trip this weekend, and I was cranky from the lack of sleep. SS chose today to demand to be taken outside, even though it was raining. When I did not make her wish my command, she turned on the Linda Blair charm, and tried to deafen me with her screams. It was a difficult day, and like my fellow blogger, I feel awful, because I should have handled things differently. For every action there is an opposite and equal reaction (rats, my physics professor was right, is all about physics). I am the adult here (seriously, I'm pretty sure it is me), I should have realized how I was winding her up.
That is the thing about parenting, we give it our best shot and hope for the best. There is no such thing as a perfect parent, or a perfect child. That is part of what makes this roller coaster ride so much fun, and also so scary. However, admitting when we are wrong, or misguided, is a must, and it is healthy. It is what makes the difference between having a clean DOJ report and being part of the system. Hang in there M3, you did just fine.
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