Another tough day, almost over. Not really almost over, but by 5pm this mom begins to congratulate myself for another day of not killing anyone.
Maggie and I had another day of me talking, her not listening. I must say, if this is life with a 4-year-old, I am going to need some serious medication for life with a 14-year-old. I suppose someday I will miss the constant chatter. And by constant, I mean from 5:30am until 7pm there is humming, singing, whining, talking, questioning, arguing, shouting, crying, begging, pleading and teasing. Noise. Constantly.
Unless I turn on the TV.
The other day my husband asked her to be quiet for a few minutes. (The parenting novice he is, doesn’t know that is the kiss of death.)
“The only time I am quiet is when I am watching TV. So if you want me to be quiet, turn on a show for me.”
Which he, of course, did. Argh!
Today I knew something was amiss when Nicholas and I woke from our afternoon nap to total silence. Maggie has quiet time for 45 minutes while I catch a few winks with her brother. But she had already come in to tell me her 45 minutes were up. I told her she could read in her room and I apparently fell back asleep.
So when I woke up a bit later I was sort of shocked at the silence. I wondered if she had secretly figured out the remote and was sneaking TV downstairs. Or if she had bounced one too many times on her bouncy ball and given herself a concussion.
I went to her room to follow the clues. Right there on the floor she was wrapped up in her pink robe, with her black gloves from her skeleton costume on. She was sound asleep. (OK, I did check to make sure she was breathing.) I have no idea how she fell asleep there, but I know she needed it. And she slept for almost 2 hours, with me periodically trying to wake her up. I got her to go potty again, so she wouldn’t wake up to that… and then she was right back out.
A four-year-old waking from a nap at 4pm spells nothing but T-R-O-U-B-L-E for bedtime tonight. And as I pondered that around 3:30, I figured we were probably already screwed, and the quiet was so lovely. By 4pm I was pondering putting her to bed for the night, but that would have made for a hellish 3am wake-up call. So I wrestled with myself and woke her. Sometimes parenting forces us to do things we really don’t want to do.