Go the F$#@ to Sleep!

Earlier this year, a new, illustrated book reached number one on Amazon's best seller list a month before it even was released. Exhausted and exasperated by his two year old daughter, Adam Mansbach wrote the tongue and cheek children's book for adults, Go the F$#@ to Sleep. A book for all parents out there who are saddled with a child who either refuses to go to bed, wakes in the middle of the night or feels that 4:00 am is an appropriate time to start the day - this is my situation.

Transitioning our Brown Eyed Girl into her big girl toddler bed was by far to BIGGEST mistake I have yet to make as a parent. Allowing her the freedom to get out of her own bed haunts me every day. I am developing a new found addiction to caffeine. I lug around a couple of suit cases under my eyes each day. I am running out of make-up tricks to cover the dark circles and soon will have to result to just wearing sunglasses throughout the day in public. My co-workers are going to start asking if I am a victim of domestic abuse. In a way, I will have to answer "Yes." My two year old daughter is depriving me of sleep. Sleep is a vital necessity just as air, food, and water are for survival. So in that case, yes, my two year old daughter is abusing me!

I am already up twice during the night with Mr Blue Eyes. He wants to nurse at around 11:30 pm and again at 3:00 am nightly. I know the pediatrician said I needed to "start getting mean with him" and refusing to nurse him at night, but I am sleep deprived.

He knows the pacifier is crap.

Nursing is better than crying. 

I think my kids are speeding up the aging process. I am pretty sure I am completely salt and pepper gray right now.

Thank you hair dye.

After fumbling with the remote control to turn on cartoons in my underwear, - thank you Disney Channel for always having cartoon options at 4:00 am - I get her set up in the recliner with a sippy full of milk, her blanket, stuffed puppy, three rubber duckies, a second sippy cup with water, wallet, paint brush, purse, baby doll and her calculator - I am not exaggerating. She sleeps with all of these items. She can tell in 2.5 seconds, in the dark, what is missing from her list.

She is possibly developing hoarding characteristics.

That is another story for another time.

Seeing we are up, Boji politely suggests that now might be a good time to let him out to do his business. Oh and by the way, he's hungry too. Of course!

I have to stand in my underwear to wait for him to finish his business outside.

It is cold and dark outside and the draft coming in is freezing.

I hate 4:00 am.

My Handy Man is of course fast asleep, sprawled out looking so comfortable. I should spray him with a water bottle. But then, he would wake the baby, who is also sleeping soundly in my bed.

Life can be cruel to mothers. 


Everyone is situated, I am off to take my shower. The warm water feels awesome after standing at the door waiting for the dog to return. Slowly I start waking up. I get out, do my make-up (hahaha), comb my hair, get dressed, and walk back out to the living room to check on our Brown Eyed Girl.

Of course...

I shake my head and leave the room to finish getting ready.

Boji, I expected more from you!

When I wake up our Brown Eyed Girl to get her dressed, Oscar the Grouch has possessed her small body. Every task is a challenge. There is a lot of crying, whining and back talk.

"Give me your foot so I can put your sock on."

"I DON'T WAAAANT A SOCK!"

"Come on, we need to get our jacket on"

"I DON'T WAAAANT A JACKET ON"

"Get your blanket, we need to leave. Hurry up, we are running late now"

"I DON'T WAAAANT TO GO!"

Before I completely lose my mind and become "that mother" you can hear from down the street yelling at her kids in a fit of hysteric rage set off my losing her patients and control, I walk away to get the baby. I scoop up Mr Blue Eyes and get him into his car seat. He just sits there smiling from his baby carrier. I am sure he thinks this is all quite humorous.

I grab the diaper bag and carry him to the back door.

"Mommy, I soooo tired."

(Well then tonight maybe you should just Go the F$#@ to Sleep!)