The Sugar Eating Nudist Night Owl.

If my child had her way she would be a sugar eating nudist night owl. 

It's 7:15 AM. I walk into my toddlers forest of pink toys (let's face it, it's barely a bedroom anymore). She's sound a sleep in her Princess Sofia undies and... Whoa! I'm blown away by the too familiar scent of "Mommy, I wet the bed." Defeat overtakes me as I make my way out of the forest to the bathroom to start a bath. Here goes another morning of rushing through the rest of my routine. 

I contemplate for a moment the previous reward; a trip to Chuckie Cheese for 5 days without an accident. It seemed like a legitimate reward at the time. Now I think it probably isn't the best solution to potty training. That's pretty much paying my toddler $30 to not pee the bed. No one pays me that much not pee the bed so I'm pretty sure we can figure out a more affordable solution. Whatever the solution is, it better happen soon because I'm dreaming about laundry soap and dryer sheets and I think my coffee, lunch and dinner are starting to smell like pee.

I barter with my toddler and trade a quick bath for a movie and cereal. I can't forget the milk because she's already reminded me in so many words (Mom, I want milk on it) that she indeed wants milk on her cereal. She's slightly particular and someone demanding. 

Yesterday morning she hadn't even opened her eyes before she told me, I want treats. Her favorite game these days is trick or treating to her stuffed animals that are placed strategically around the living room. I want to throw away every single grain of sugar in the house. Why did I think a candy jar was a good idea?

By the time I struggle through headache causing shrieks as I brush and braid her hair she is digging at the crotch of her pants and squealing because SOMETHING IS WRONG!! It is not obvious to me what that something is but I rip off her clothes as fast as I can to stop the shrieking. I can't help but think 3 things: she wants to be a nudist, she hates underwear or just me.

[Rewind to the night before] I feel like a terrible, horrible, no good, rotten Mother as I whip back the covers and walk away from my crying toddler. It's 10:30 PM. We are an hour and 45 minutes in to bedtime. She's begged for a snack, milk, Grandma, Daddy and you guessed it: treats. She's gone potty, given Daddy good night kisses, collected 5 stuffed animals and listened to Adele twice. At this point she's forcing herself to stay awake. Why can't my child love sleep like I did? I suppose she's figure out that life is short and sleep is overrated. Which doesn't help the fact that my last bit of patience is gone. 

Thank God for saving grace aka my husband, who must have more patience stored up than I do. He lays in bed with her and I take a deep breathe. Silence sure sounds good after the drama princess finally lets sleep take over. 

After thinking all of this through and realizing she will be 4 years old in 2 months all of these things seem minuscule. 

This girl is wild. She's spontaneous and silly and sometimes drives me crazy. Other days when she is sweet and sensitive I'm completely shocked. We've got a lifetime of unexpected ahead of us. I wonder what her 4 years old self will bring to us. 

Even if she is a night owl or she becomes a nudist and devours all the sugar in the whole house before I have a chance to throw it all away I wouldn't trade a second of the time we've had so far. She's one amazing kid. 

Keep loving.