#NaBloPoMo Day 13: Eleven, Twelve, Fourteen

It’s the 13th of the month, so today’s NaBloPoMo theme is Superstition. Peek back at yesterday’s post for a cute photo of Ell-Bell doing some chores.

Are you superstitious? I think my son K-man might be. When he counts to twenty, he almost always skips the number thirteen. It’s probably because his two-year-old brain can’t distinguish between the words thirteen and fourteen, but still, cute.

I’ve never been an overly superstitious person.  One superstition I think all moms subscribe to, though, is that you should never ever EVER vocalize when things are going well with your kid.  It’s a classic rookie mistake. Because the moment you admit that things are going well, the literal moment, they take a turn for the worse. Sometimes it’s a full 180. Ugh. Kids are so spiteful.

And this is true in every facet of parenthood. Behavioral issues. Eating. Potty training. And of course, sleep.  Mother effing sleep. Aka the joy killer. Aka optimism’s kryptonite.  If you’re a masochist, if you really truly hate yourself, go ahead and roll over in bed one night and tell your partner that you think your child is finally sleeping better.  Go ahead, I dare you.  I guarantee you that same child will wake up crying within five minutes. And then again every hour for the rest of the night.  You done messed up.

Honestly, there’s no safe way to acknowledge a trend of sleep improvement. Ell-Bell has had some major sleep issues for the past, oh, five months or so. Multiple night wakings, every night. But lately, it seemed like we were turning over a new leaf. Gosh, a few nights in a row she didn’t even wake up for the first time until about 4 a.m! Pure heaven.

Since I’m talking in the past tense, you already know I messed it up somehow.  But if you think I’m naive enough to have uttered a word about my giddiness to another living soul, you’re not giving me enough credit.  This isn’t my first rodeo! I wouldn’t even meet Hubby’s eyes when he asked me in the mornings how things went the night before. I just gave him the usual old miserable grunt.  So here’s where I went wrong.  I dared to think about it.  How could I have been so stupid?  Obviously the sleep gods can read minds, too!

Guess I need to bone up on my occlumency, just in case my daughter ever starts sleeping through the night.

Until next time,

Vee

 

 

 

Why does my kid always…

Why does my daughter always …

  • Poop her diaper the second after I change her into a fresh one.
  • Take short naps when I need to get something done, and long naps when I need to get out the door.
  • Spit her pacifier onto the floor every time we’re in a public restroom.
  • Hide food in her neck folds, and somehow, also in her diaper.
  • Try to touch my brain (via my nostrils) whenever I hold her.
  • Get a head cold, followed by an ear infection, followed by a diaper rash. Rinse and repeat.  And repeat.  And repeat.
  • Insist on unfolding the laundry as soon as I’ve folded it.
  • Bee-line for the kitties’ water dish as soon as I put her down on the floor.
  • Cry from exhaustion, but then do metaphorical (or sometimes actual) cartwheels when I try to put her down for a nap.

And why does my son always…

  • Refuse to fall asleep in the car until we’re 5 minutes away from our final destination.
  • Magically identify and extract new vegetables from his meal.
  • Ignore a toy all day, but need to play with it immediately if baby sister shows any interest in it.
  • Refuse to wear a jacket or use a blanket, no matter how cold it is.
  • Try to choke me out when hugging me from behind.
  • Drink bath water by the gallons.
  • Confess his hiding place when playing hide-and-seek.
  • Have a growth spurt right after I drop a fortune on new clothes.
  • Talk about his penis to strangers.
  • Squeeze the full juice box before he puts the straw in his mouth.

Why do blowouts come in threes?

Why do the Terrible Twos start at 18 Months? And when oh when do they end?

Why does it hurt like a mofo to step on a Hotwheels car?

And how is it possible that in spite of everything, my kids melt my heart over and over again, every single day?

Until next time,

Vee