depraved.

Anyone who doesn’t buy into the church doctrines of Total Depravity and Original Sin has never had a three year old.  She is the reason I’m sitting here at 4:33 in the morning instead of in bed trying to sleep off this bloody cold once and for all.  She, a trooper really, who has skipped naps for a lot of days in a row and it’s caught up to her.  To us all.  She, who is, as I type, throwing an outrageous fit in her bed because she’s not tired.  Not tired, but wicked pissed apparently.  And so I don’t sleep either.  It’s too cruel to get warm and cozy in my bed and start to drift off to sleep only to hear the swish-swish of her footed pjs coming through my door and catch a glimpse of her bouncing curls floating to me over the edge of the monster bed.  Too cruel to have to remind myself that it’s better to fight this battle now than to have her co-sleeping until she’s married, even though that would solve the sleep problem in the short term.  So I sit here, surrounded by a sea of used kleenexes, thinking randomly that it’s weird to call them kleenexes because I only buy Puffs Plus, and updating you on something you probably could care a whit about and that won’t for a second change the world.  But there you have it.  Three is tricky.  And now there is silence on the other side of the door so I’ll head to bed and read Bonhoeffer until I fall asleep which will be point three seconds and I’m swearing to you to not even worry about how I’ll drag tomorrow and how we won’t be home in the afternoon for her to take the nap she needs so badly.  Because worrying won’t change what is.  And what is is a sleeping three year old who won’t remember her fit in the morning, but will wonder why her mama has stapled her eyelids open and is drinking a cocktail of 5-Hour Energy and coffee and chasing them both with spoonfuls of pure, highly refined white sugar.  Will wonder why we’ve totally gone to the dogs.  And I’ll tell her about Total Depravity and Original Sin until she nods off in her carseat at which point I’ll pull into the parking lot and fall right asleep myself.
This is me being real.  Wondering if anyone wants to have a cavity filled today?  Because I’ve got a 1:10 with your name on it and it’d save me the agony of the rubber dam (rubber dangit) and the embarrassment of forgetting, again, how to breath through my mouth in the dentist’s chair.  Just let me know and I’ll pencil you in.  Unless I’m sleeping…

2 Replies to “depraved.”

  1. someday when it's quiet in your house, and they are all gone, and you can sleep with uninterrupted bliss, you will read this blog, and get a tear in your eye, and wish, actually wish for that curly haired, dimple faced, knocky kneed girlie to come with her nodder and black blankie,and be a little 3 year old totally depraved sinner in your monster bed.

    This is a warning to anyone who is thinking of actually taking Meg's appt. today. I am babysitting that 3 year old, and I will fight like a cat for the right to do that. A mad nana is not a pretty sight.

    Like

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