Ok, Bye!
My daughter has never gone to bed without milk. For her first 14 months, it came from her portable keg* and since she's taken it in bottle form. My sons were...well, crap; they still take a mug of warm milk before bed every now & again. Anyone have a dairy farm that needs investors?
Anyway...bottle, bedtime. It's her thing. Anyone who would like to tell me not to do this canpiss off take a flying leap kindly keep their very valuable, educated opinions to themselves. And besides, all my kids did it; none of them have rotten, bucked out teeth. That bottle lasts 3.67 seconds anyway, I'm sure. My kids find something they like and they finish it as fast as humanly possible.
Their poor, poor wives.
And hell, the bottle thing works. She actually goes down without a fight. This, coming from a kid who fights everything.
(A quick aside: I've changed my share of Huggies in 32 years, and I know one thing....normal children enjoy diaper changes. My kids? It takes both arms, a knee, the opposing foot and a Ouija board to change her butt. I kid you not; I had to call her father in to help me the other day. Who fights a fucking diaper change? My kid, that's who. I keep trying to tape a change to show you how awful she is about it, but I can't quite figure out how to operate a camera with my left ear. I'm working on it.)
So, tonight it was time to put her down and I had NO MILK. Jesus M*%^$#F@#$^$NG Christ. Me? Screwed. We'd had the day from hell and she's two there was no nap and she's two and it was getting really late and she's TWO. What did I do? I gave her potato chips instead. We cuddled on the couch, watched some tv, I brushed her hair and we read a few books. And then I just told her it was bedtime. She said, "Ok", and walked upstairs.
She. Said. Ok.
We said goodnight to the moon and the pretty bowies** and then I put her in her bed and kissed her and gave her a baby and walked out. Really, really quietly. I got almost out the door and she said, "Momma?" to which I answered, "Uuuuuh...huhhhh?" and she repied, "Ok, bye!"
Of course, all of this happened at 12:30 in the morning, 3 1/2 hours after using the last of the milk and trying to get her to bed. Hey, we can't win'm all.
*Yeah, that would be ME.
**Bonus Points to the first correct guess as to what the hell a Pretty Bowie is.
Anyway...bottle, bedtime. It's her thing. Anyone who would like to tell me not to do this can
Their poor, poor wives.
And hell, the bottle thing works. She actually goes down without a fight. This, coming from a kid who fights everything.
(A quick aside: I've changed my share of Huggies in 32 years, and I know one thing....normal children enjoy diaper changes. My kids? It takes both arms, a knee, the opposing foot and a Ouija board to change her butt. I kid you not; I had to call her father in to help me the other day. Who fights a fucking diaper change? My kid, that's who. I keep trying to tape a change to show you how awful she is about it, but I can't quite figure out how to operate a camera with my left ear. I'm working on it.)
So, tonight it was time to put her down and I had NO MILK. Jesus M*%^$#F@#$^$NG Christ. Me? Screwed. We'd had the day from hell and she's two there was no nap and she's two and it was getting really late and she's TWO. What did I do? I gave her potato chips instead. We cuddled on the couch, watched some tv, I brushed her hair and we read a few books. And then I just told her it was bedtime. She said, "Ok", and walked upstairs.
She. Said. Ok.
We said goodnight to the moon and the pretty bowies** and then I put her in her bed and kissed her and gave her a baby and walked out. Really, really quietly. I got almost out the door and she said, "Momma?" to which I answered, "Uuuuuh...huhhhh?" and she repied, "Ok, bye!"
Of course, all of this happened at 12:30 in the morning, 3 1/2 hours after using the last of the milk and trying to get her to bed. Hey, we can't win'm all.
*Yeah, that would be ME.
**Bonus Points to the first correct guess as to what the hell a Pretty Bowie is.
Labels: baby steps
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