I often think I must be forgetting how old my daughter really is, I'm almost certain that she is one but her ridiculous, psychotic tantrums tell me otherwise. I realised ever since she's been having visits with her dad, she's turned into an evil alien child that I was not aware I had. Say goodbye to my little happy, full-of-beans and lots of giggles baby and hello to little miss stroppy; heavy on the attitude. I really wish she would redirect her strength for hitting, kicking and screaming to sleeping. Oh the world would be a better place.
Instead, she's adopted a new habit that happens between 11pm and 4am every night, where she has a complete and total lack of respect for my ear drums and screams our room down. Oh how I long for the day we have separate rooms. It was about 1:30am this morning when I thought to myself "What is love?" Love is getting woken up by a scream that sounds like your child is being tortured when really she just wants to get up and play. Love is bopping up and down, patting butts, mumbling melodies at 2am in the morning to a kid who refuses to sleep. Love is putting your said child in bed with you to try and comfort her back to sleep only so you can be kicked in the ribs, stomach, face, punched, kissed, and climbed on as if you're a freaking jungle gym only to have to get out of bed for the 500th that night because with in 5 seconds she's managed to do all of the above, jump out of the bed and run over and start banging her head against the door... All this and she is still screaming. Who would have thought a little asthmatic would have the lung capacity to scream for over an hour straight? Not me! Love is not having slept more than 2 hours straight in almost 5 months. Yep, okay great! I am capable of loving.
I'm always thinking, if she didn't go to daycare, if she didn't have to see her dad then maybe the precious little well behaved cute giggly daughter I once had would still be here, at least until she turned 2. Then the tantrums would be okay.
I've found myself thinking lately about the other girls who had babies the same time as me and they are due for their second baby any time now and all I can think is that they must be on drugs, or they have perfectly well behaved kids. The last thing I would want is to be pregnant while my little miss is going through such a trying season. The good thing is, all seasons come to an end.
And so did our night last night, it may have ended at 3:45am but atlas she fell asleep.