Don't Make Me Come In There!

Dear Eldest Child O' Mine,

It's been weeks upon weeks since I've been out of this house alone. Alone, minus someone's hand to hold or someone's carrier to lug around. And my stay in the hospital most certainly did not count. So, when I conspired with your father to have a few short hours alone tonight, I was actually planning on escaping this house. Alone.

I was not planning on taking you potty 13 times before bed. I was not planning on spending an hour listening to your hiccuping screams. I was not planning on attempting to comfort you and coax you back into bed 17 times in that hour.

You peed in the potty. Three times. You pooped in the potty. Twice. You, my child, must be empty.

Your diaper is not wet. And I will not change it just because you lay out a new one for me.

Your water bottle is full. I will not get you more.

Your bed is comfortable. I've slept in it. Many times. However, I could care less if you want to sleep on the floor. But I will not come and arrange a bed on the floor for you, no matter how many times you beg for Pooh Bear (your blanket and pillow) once you're already lying down there.

You do not sleep in a crib anymore. I'm sorry we've left it up in the corner of the room. But no matter how enticing it looks, unless you're climbing in yourself, you do not sleep in the crib anymore.

Please, dear child, keep your butt in bed and let your mother have just a tiny bit of freedom.

Love,
Your Slowly Going Crazy Mother