Hi, My Name is Hypocrite

So that whole sleep thing is really not going the way I would like. Over the weekend, Alexis slept through the night. I didn't say a word because, like, I'm not that stupid and I didn't want to jinx the situation. Then came Sunday night and guess what? My human tape recorder/alarm clock went off at precisely 3:30 am. Yay! And last night? Woohoo! I must have set the human tape recorder/alarm clock again cause there I was, in Alexis' room at 3:30.

She wasn't content with just a "Good night" this time, so we had quite the conversation. It went something like this:

Me: Go to sleep.
Me: Alexis, go to sleep.
Me: Alexis, there is nothing for you to do at 3:30 in the morning. Go to sleep.
Me: OK, seriously, you have no need to be awake at this hour until you get to college. Save it for then. You'll thank me.

Yeah, so she's not the best listener in the middle of the night. After about ten minutes of arguing, she finally realized I really wasn't going to pick her up and flopped over to go to sleep. But then I was wide awake, so I laid in bed thinking about all the times in my life that I have been awake at 3:30 in the morning. And determined that she absolutely, positively will not be repeating some of my actions. Unless she wants me to lock her in the basement. Because I will.

I haven't been awake at 3:30 (intentionally) forever, but I used to be every single night. When I was in high school. Seriously, every night. My parents had this ridiculous curfew thing and claimed I had to be in the house at 9:00 every night. Always one to avoid conflict, I was in the house every night at 9:00. As I passed from the front door, down the hall, into my room, and out the window. I could be found out with my friends again by 9:10, guaranteed. I usually returned home around 4:00, just in time for an hour or two of sleep before I went to school. I never once got caught, which I still kind of think is funny. Until I remember that Alexis is bound to try that same crap in about 15 years. At which point my head spontaneously combusts.

Call me a hypocrite, but if I ever catch Alexis out at 3:30 in the morning, it ain't gonna' be pretty.

Note to Alexis: Could we pretty please, with whip cream and blueberries on top, start practicing being asleep at 3:30? I will pay you in the form of baby dolls, Dora toys, Elmo, and Signing Time.


Random Stuff

* Yesterday's Steelers game? ROCKED. I think I might be starting to like Ben, even if only a little bit.

* Daddy and I? Really freakin' immature. Alexis was walking around all over the place telling us both to sit yesterday. However, it sounded a whole lot like, "Mommy, sh@t" and "Daddy, sh@t." And we giggled. Why, yes, we are a couple of ten-year olds. What of it?

* Wal-Mart employees? Should totally feel stupid putting out all that Christmas and winter crap. It's 90 degrees outside. Save the fuzzy slippers for a week or two. Also? It screws with my head when there is an aisle of school supplies next to the Halloween stuff next to the Christmas junk next to the flowers. Pick a season and go with it, will you?

* Your mission? Cheer like crazy for Tony Romo tonight. I am currently down three points for this week's Fantasy game, but I'm counting on my new boyfriend to make it all better. A victory would be extra sweet since I'm head-to-head with the guy that just bought an English Bulldog based on my breeder/importer recommendation. He's already broke, now let's go for broke loser status. How does it feel to know you're about to beat by a girl, Gandolf's Goons? Probably about the same as it feels to know you just spent over $2500 for a dog that is going to destroy every piece of furniture you own. Have fun with that.


Pictures Really Do Tell the Story

There are times when I walk into daycare and really, really wish I had a camera handy. For example, every time that I have ever picked Alexis up during nap time. I quite simply cannot wrap my brain around the fact that they get 20 one, two, and three-year olds to nap simultaneously AND for more than ten minutes. A photo of that would allow me to stare at the image over and over, as if I were admiring one of the seven wonders of the world. That is certainly one of the wonders of my world.

Other times it's OK that I don't whip the camera out because the image of what I see is permanently seared into my brain. The time I walked in on Barbie time immediately comes to mind. There were at least 30 naked Barbie dolls laying in a pile, many of them decapitated or missing a limb. Their clothes were scattered over a four-mile perimeter. It seemed the toddlers were taunting the naked Barbies with thoughts of being fully dressed. One toddler would start to put an article of clothing on a Barbie and another toddler would grab that Barbie from her current keeper, causing some sort of dismemberment. Then the second toddler would start to dress Barbie, only to have a third toddler come along and rip Barbie away. The end result is an image I won't soon forget--a pile of vacant-eyed, skinny, blond, dismembered, naked dolls with permanent smiles affixed to their faces.

Then there are the times when I walk in and am immediately told, "You have to see this picture." Camera phones are a handy invention. Last week a camera phone provided the evidence I needed to see that Alexis has taken her pleas for a brother or sister public. Behold Exhibit A:

Now, I can already hear Grandmas and Grandpas across the country saying, "Well, give the girl what she wants. Bring on more Grandbabies!" Let's get one thing straight right this second. No. No. No. and No. I am not so far gone from those many months of pregnancy misery to have forgotten just how miserable I was. Also, I am 100% aware of the fact that nobody gets this lucky twice. Alexis is undoubtedly an "easy" child. That won't happen again. I imagine that our next child (should there ever be one--a very, very long time from now) will be the polar opposite of Alexis. That thought alone is enough to make me start looking for the best bridge to launch myself from that will almost certainly guarantee an escape from the horrors of a less-cooperative child.

So Alexis has been not-so-subtly hinting at her desire to have a baby in the house. Her current strategy is to demonstrate just how helpful she could be. She carries her dolls around all over the house, giving them bottles to drink, changing their diapers (well, sort of--usually they just end up naked), giving them lots of hugs and kisses, pushing them in the stroller, and even feeding them.

Even I will admit, it's a pretty good strategy. But it ain't gonna' work. So Alexis, please focus your energies elsewhere. You can have all the babies you want in about 30 years.