Sleep is for Suckers

(Diary Entry 2010)

I have always been amazed at Haleigh’s obstinate stance when it comes to sleep. It’s like she is fighting the devil himself, all the while succumbing to the inevitable lull of the underworld. I don’t know who’s winning at this point–but I can say that she fights each new sleep battle anew. Each night brings a completely fresh perspective on an old idea: How do I keep from going to bed?

Tonight was no different from any other night. We had no homework, no reading–just sight words and our spring presentation to review with ease–and thus, this evening began pretty light and lovely with Spongebob followed by a round of Dora the Explorer, Backyardigans, and Max and Ruby. This awesome afternoon was also catered by Mommy’s Munchies, with a half a pack of Oreo’s, Doritos, and Hot Dogs all washed down with a chilled apple and white grape juice box. Oh, and I forgot the Pork rinds (courtesy of dad) that they snuck out of the food pantry.

Now, you would think that a day like this would just continue to be mellow and marvelous? That would have been too much like right. The very second Haleigh heard me call her name for her bath, my day her day–alas our day began to sputter and nose dive into her daily fight for superiority over bedtime. She stalled. She pretended not to hear me. She made up her bed. She picked up her toys. She put on her princess shoes. But did not wash. She whined. She complained about the water being too hot, and then too cold. She cried as Ashleigh attacked her (possibly mimicking me in my exasperation). She couldn’t get her shirt off. She could not find the soap. Ahh, ahh, ahh,ahh, ahh, ahh, ahh.

The bath debacle complete, I left my children unattended to laugh and play and sing upstairs to the moods and music of the movie Bolt (don’t ask, don’t tell). The time was 7:00 p.m. I cleaned up around the house, gone out to the garage to have an adult conversation, and caught the end of one of my favorite T.V. shows. The clock now read 8:09 p.m. It was now time for the showdown. Actually, it was nine minutes past showtime. ugh.

I wish I could find a way to accurately describe the other sound my preschooler is so fond of creating. She has mastered an ability few fully grown women have managed to even keep up–the art of the false hyperventilation. Once I made the nightly announcement–“Time for night, night”–Haleigh went into near convulsions. She was hungry! Where was her snack?! How dare I force her into the bed without the required nightly snack! ugh.

Five minutes later, she’s eating her snack. In bed. Watching t.v. Smiling that little self-indulgent, self-satisfied smile. Five more minutes? She’s out cold. Amazing, right? Not really–because for the last three years, my child has managed to only take a nap a couple of times a month at school.

Gotta love being a mommy right?



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