She was easy
Now shrieking at the top of her lungs
She used to like going to bed with Woof-woof.
“BANG-BANG” using the plastic xylophone as a battering ram
I would say, “Goodnight Girlie,” and she would say, “Good night ma-ih.”
“THUMP JINGLE, THUMP JINGLE” using the plastic clown rattle to emphasize the syllables, “Let me out!”
It’s a phase.
I’m so tired.
She will learn the new routine.
I’m not young enough to run her
up and down the driveway in the evenings.
She refused to go in the livingroom trampoline.
The “If you ______, you can watch ____ before bed” tactic didn’t work.
She’s not hungry or thirsty.
She’s over tired.
I need to schedule a play date for her.
Toddlers tire each other out.
She will continue to scream until
I cave in and check to make sure she is…
(Riiiight, then start the whole process over?
I think not. She’s not my first toddler tyrant.
She will be the last though.)
Twenty years of being someone’s Mommy.
Holy Toledo Batman!
“Please don’t shut the door,
please don’t go away.”
How have I scarred this child?
Why am I the only adult in this home?
This used to be easy.
Separation anxiety means she is entering a new stage in her development.
Damn, I’m goin’ in.