Or, in my case, a good morning's sleep. I made it to the sack at about 12:45 am and was out like a light...only to awaken at 5 am with Squib. After the standard bathroom trip, milk, reassurances that he's ok to play alone 10 feet from my door, I was back in bed soaking up the sleep. Bed gravity was strong today and I must be living right because the remaining Scats gave him breakfast and his bath and let me sleep! I am very grateful!
Once I realized they had taken over, I set up the necessary sound barrier (iPod) to isolate myself from the wandering hoards. There was a clothing stampede somewhere around 8 am, but yours truly made it to 10 am!!!! Unheard of!
Then the cat fights began.
I'm still convinced SqB is a girl despite the obvious package. An adolescent or pre-teen girl, at that. Drama, drama, drama. And when he started chucking heavy objects at myself AND my laptop, OOOOOOOOO did I feel like duct-taping him to the time-out chair. Forever. Instead, I started confiscating every thrown object and am now the proud owner of over 50% of all his toys (yes I know this is my option at any time, but they're his things, I don't renege on gifts).
Lunch went down smoothly today...no more knife-throwing and a lot less vegetable eating which is odd because the veggies were rather tame (no turnip greens--gag me). And at the end of the meal, psycho tot looks at me and says, "Wut time id it, Momma?" I give the usual expected answer, "I don't know, honey, what time is it (it's becoming like a knock knock joke or something)?" To which my tot replies for the second day in a row:
"It's nap time!"
There was actual glee in his voice. There is hope for me yet!!!!!!! Wahoo! I practically levitated as we gathered the appropriate sleeping implements (sippy cup, Blue dog, Thomas, Annie, and Clarabel), parked his shoes in the correct spot (his idea), spread his blanket out (another tot preference), kissed everything--and I do mean everything, sang, and he gave me SIX kisses!!! Count 'em! Six! WOW! And off to sleep he went.
Ever since then, I've been looking for my Squash Blossom 'cause some other kid came out of that room at 3 pm. This perky, 4yo look-alike has been sitting in my lap, helping clean up for the housekeeper who comes each Thursday, hasn't freaked out in two hours, made it to the bank and the store and back without a melt-down, and is happily playing while I work and occasionally add a paragraph to my blog.
The rest of the evening went calmly as well. No usual ground-zero freak-out when the vacuum turned on. No non-linear apoplexy over menu choices on his movie. No outbursts regarding dinner. I put him right back where I found him after his nap so that the person who actually took my son can return him and take theirs back. Poor dears may never make it back :D.
The only REALLY disturbing part of the day is the peppered moth that has taken up residence in the office toilet. It doesn't spook easily and it doesn't announce itself, so upon doing my business, I FELT A FLUTTER!!!!!!!
Yes, I leapt into the air high enough to take residence in the rafters. So did the moth or he'd be dead. I was ready to smash him into oblivion where he belongs!
Since then I've gotten a little green and try to announce myself and poke at him a little, but he (and he really must be a man) must really like it in there (yes, in the bowl) 'cause he DOES NOT want to move at all! I hate to break it to him (no he doesn't deserve a name and I refuse to anthropomorphize about this), but he just cannot live there no matter how many littler insects he's picking off. Don't care. Parts of me are private--especially to moths! My strategy is to set him free after dark some time so he can see the world outside the bowl and hopefully take up residence in a little less risque part of...somewhere...
Death to skanky bugs,