Momnesia

Makes Sense to Me, Too

We've had Emmie so far off her schedule, and in so many different places this summer, that bedtime has become quite a battle.

"Emmie, time for bed."

"No," she'll reply, mildly, with a sidelong glance at me.

(Sigh) "Okay, you're going to lose a story, sweetie."

"I not," she'll insist, just as matter-of-factly as though she were saying that she doesn't have three eyes.

But most nights, with some extra "hugs and mooches and zrrbrrts," she settles down.

Not Monday. Monday was Waterloo.

Three books, two beverages, one bathroom break, and a new night light later, I thought she was settled in for good. But just before we turned our lamps off, in she crept, crawling past our insistence into the middle of the bed, in pink footie pajamas that were not the ones in which I had dressed her for.

"But, but, but..." She reasoned, with her I'm-Being-Reasonable face, palms out and down, through our directions. "Lithen. I wan' tell you sumping."

(Sigh. Gritted Teeth) "What. Do. You. Want. To. Tell. Us."

"I jus wan hug you and mooch you and snuggle wif you. And den I won hab a bad dream, wif a bad lady, an I sleep all night an not wate up an you not wate up an you not hab bad dreams and den we all be happy! Mate sense to me."

It made sense to us, too, dangit.

But I wasn't willing to get kicked in the head all night by our newly-anointed white belt. So I told her that her choice was that she could either sleep in her own bed, or she could sleep on the floor next to me.

"OKAY!" she ran into her room, got her blanket and pillow, and snuggled up on the wooden floor next to me as I turned out the light and tried to stifle my guilt. Was it okay for her to be on the floor? I honestly thought she'd choose her bed... Conflicted, I decided to let her choice stand.

Just then, her hand snaked up to clutch my arm: "Danks, mama. I be happy."

She was fine with this! The floor wasn't hurting her. She wasn't kicking our asses all night. She wasn't scared. We were all going to sleep - do you hear me?! Sleep! All night, I hoped!

I. Am. A. Genius.

Satisfied with the situation, I relaxed. Every so often she'd reach up, or I'd reach down, to pat each other. We were all getting what we wanted, and Scott was already snoring.

And just as I was drifting off to sleep, I felt her clamber gently into the bed between us. Curses! My sleep-addled brain thought. But then she snuggled against me, and kissed me on the arm: "Mama, you da bess mama eber." And I reached out my arms to her, folded her within them, and dreamed.

(For a couple of hours, at least, until I moved to the couch to get away from the Horizontal Ninja.)


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