This morning was not much unlike most mornings where Devin leaves for work earlier then I...
As a preface which adds importance to the rest of this story, I must provide some vital details about my child. Kodi was born with a sleep apnea which put her in the habit of not sleeping well, and waking several times a night. She did not sleep through the night until she was 2 and a 1/2 after she had surgery to help correct this problem. It did help her sleep in the physical sense, but that was only until she discovered a fear of "the darkness". She still struggles sleeping through the night, and since January has only slept all night in her bed 66 times. How do I know this? As an incentive to help her sleep in her own bed I made her a chart. Graphing off 100 separate spots. 66 stickers are on the chart. 66 out of nearly 200 days. wow, I just realized I am a sucker!
As I walk over to MY bed, and try to gently arrouse Kodi, she glares at me giving me the stinkeye stare, and tells me she doesn't want to get up and she's too tired to go see her friends, then she starts crying. It takes me 5 minutes to get her to stop sobbing and talk to me. She was upset about her "pajama's are itchy", she doesn't want to see her friends, her hair is now bothering her and keeps falling into her eyes, she won't change into her clothes for fear she may get cold in the process, and so on...
I finally pick her up, carry her over to the rocking chair and start crying myself. I explained how I didn't want to go to work either, and how I wish she didn't have to go to the sitter, and how I am late for work and still need to do my hair and get her breakfast. She quit crying till she saw the choice of outfit I had set out for her. In her words, "that dress is not good to wear mom, I will look crazy". And the tears start falling again...
After she spends 5 minutes rearranging her drawers to find an outfit more suitable for the events of the day, she settles on a daisy duck shirt with striped leggins. Luckily it matches, although at this point it truly doesn't matter if it matches or not - I would have sent her in her birthday suit if it wasn't for the fear of DCFS having problems with parents who do not dress their children.
So I finally have her dressed with shoes on and her hair in a ponytail that is not acceptable because it doesn't curl up in the back like ponytails do on Barbie dolls. I explained that the ponytail looked fabulous, I wasn't redoing it, and this was not negotiable. I gave her allergy medicine for her hayfever, and a drink of water to wash it all down. I finally talk her into breakfast and we agree upon a peanutbutter and honey sandwich. Shortly after I start making it, she starts crying all over again because I am "not doing it right, and Dad doesn't do it like that". How many ways are there to make a peanut butter and honey sandwich? Apparently there are two.
She explains to me that her tooth is wiggley and she needs the towel in case it starts to bleed, or even worse -in case the wiggley tooth falls out and she has to catch it. The crying doesn't stop until I get a hand towel for her to pack around and get her buckled into her carseat. Once we are in the car, I think she has decided this is a safe area and calms right down. I am so glad that we had the surface area of the towel to contain her tooth should it fall out. A tooth I was ordered to feel how wiggley it was, ended up not even being loose. She carried the towel into daycare and sat on the side of the playground refusing to play with the kids because her tooth might get bumped and then fall out. She agreed to trade in my bathroom hand towel for a large paper towel, then allowed me to kiss her cheek under her eye or on her forehead (as these areas were far enough away from her mouth I wouldn't knock her tooth out) and then leave to go to work.
For starters I overslept my usual 15 minutes. Flying out of bed, dressing and quickly recycling my hair from the previous day, I go back down stairs to wake Kodi up.
As a preface which adds importance to the rest of this story, I must provide some vital details about my child. Kodi was born with a sleep apnea which put her in the habit of not sleeping well, and waking several times a night. She did not sleep through the night until she was 2 and a 1/2 after she had surgery to help correct this problem. It did help her sleep in the physical sense, but that was only until she discovered a fear of "the darkness". She still struggles sleeping through the night, and since January has only slept all night in her bed 66 times. How do I know this? As an incentive to help her sleep in her own bed I made her a chart. Graphing off 100 separate spots. 66 stickers are on the chart. 66 out of nearly 200 days. wow, I just realized I am a sucker!
As I walk over to MY bed, and try to gently arrouse Kodi, she glares at me giving me the stinkeye stare, and tells me she doesn't want to get up and she's too tired to go see her friends, then she starts crying. It takes me 5 minutes to get her to stop sobbing and talk to me. She was upset about her "pajama's are itchy", she doesn't want to see her friends, her hair is now bothering her and keeps falling into her eyes, she won't change into her clothes for fear she may get cold in the process, and so on...
I finally pick her up, carry her over to the rocking chair and start crying myself. I explained how I didn't want to go to work either, and how I wish she didn't have to go to the sitter, and how I am late for work and still need to do my hair and get her breakfast. She quit crying till she saw the choice of outfit I had set out for her. In her words, "that dress is not good to wear mom, I will look crazy". And the tears start falling again...
After she spends 5 minutes rearranging her drawers to find an outfit more suitable for the events of the day, she settles on a daisy duck shirt with striped leggins. Luckily it matches, although at this point it truly doesn't matter if it matches or not - I would have sent her in her birthday suit if it wasn't for the fear of DCFS having problems with parents who do not dress their children.
So I finally have her dressed with shoes on and her hair in a ponytail that is not acceptable because it doesn't curl up in the back like ponytails do on Barbie dolls. I explained that the ponytail looked fabulous, I wasn't redoing it, and this was not negotiable. I gave her allergy medicine for her hayfever, and a drink of water to wash it all down. I finally talk her into breakfast and we agree upon a peanutbutter and honey sandwich. Shortly after I start making it, she starts crying all over again because I am "not doing it right, and Dad doesn't do it like that". How many ways are there to make a peanut butter and honey sandwich? Apparently there are two.
She explains to me that her tooth is wiggley and she needs the towel in case it starts to bleed, or even worse -in case the wiggley tooth falls out and she has to catch it. The crying doesn't stop until I get a hand towel for her to pack around and get her buckled into her carseat. Once we are in the car, I think she has decided this is a safe area and calms right down. I am so glad that we had the surface area of the towel to contain her tooth should it fall out. A tooth I was ordered to feel how wiggley it was, ended up not even being loose. She carried the towel into daycare and sat on the side of the playground refusing to play with the kids because her tooth might get bumped and then fall out. She agreed to trade in my bathroom hand towel for a large paper towel, then allowed me to kiss her cheek under her eye or on her forehead (as these areas were far enough away from her mouth I wouldn't knock her tooth out) and then leave to go to work.
2 comments:
What a morning Amy!! Girls can be so dramatic, but you gotta love them.
Oh boy. NOT a fun morning. Hope things have gotten better since then!
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