My alarm clock today was an 8 am “Mommy, Caca”. I couldn’t quite figure if it was a dream (or a nightmare more likely), or if it really was my child waking me up because he pooped. So I silently prayed to the God of Pooping Toddlers that it was a joke, and that I could still sleep a few more hours. Turned out it wasn’t a dream, and he was really making me aware of this amazing achievement on a Saturday morning.
Now, there are multiple problems enclosed in this apparently innocent scenario. One: what on Earth is a 27 month-old toddler still in our bed every.single.night, and 2. when have we become “those” kind of parents that allow this? I always thought that by the time he will turn 1, he will be sleeping in his own room, own bed, from 9 pm to 9 am preferably. I also thought he would stop asking for milk during the night (because seriously he is eating normal FOOD all the time, why would he STILL need to be fed a bottle of milk at 3 AM???). Also, we were sure that conquering our bed in the morning would just be a snuggling routine where we just play and wake up slowly and just enjoy weekend mornings together.
Well, it’s not. Over the past week I’ve been woken up three times with “Mommy, Caca”, opened my eyes to a smiling blonde-curly-haired toddler grinning while letting me know he pooped and asking me to join him in the bathroom. It’s quite hilarious when you tell the story to others, but not quite that much when it happens. Especially when it’s still dark outside. (I guess the darkness problem is our fault because we sleep with closed curtains like a couple of idiots hoping to not be waken up by the sun in the morning. As if there WAS any sun in the Netherlands before 10 AM in the best best days. Anyways, I always say hope for the best be prepared for the worst, I just keep on lying to myself that a dark room will let us sleep in hahaha).
I seriously found the most accurate illustration for this, apparently this toddler girl is just as Sasha, surprising their moms in their best moments with the most pleasant surprises. Not.
Now, there’s several things a toddler just knows for sure, and the first one is that the Big Bed is our bed. All of ours. (By the way, The Honest Toddler’s Bunmi Laditan’ ‘The Big Bed‘ book is out now and for sale, so go grab it because it is hilarious!). As the book also suggests, mom and dad’s master bed is also baby’s bed and that’s a rule and he knows it and so should you, naive parents. There is no question about it, once he or she slept in it once, they own it. Period.
So not get over it and just make peace with the fact that morning sex will be out of sight for the next I don’t know, maybe 18 year? Ok maybe sooner, but it feels like 18 anyways. Now that we got that straight, I need to know what to feed him before bed so that he doesn’t need that bottle of milk in the middle of the night anymore. My husband suggests a spoon of whisky, I’m still a bit sceptical about it, but I might just give in though pretty soon. Yeah, Mommy brain sometimes gets too realistic.
How do you do it, seriously now? How do you get them to just SLEEP THE NIGHT THROUGH? Thing is, the process only last for 5 minutes until he sips his milk and then falls back asleep, the problem here is that this happens in OUR BED 99% of the time, where he stays for the rest of the night.
When I found out I would have a baby boy, everyone’s encouragement was “Oh you will be the most spoiled woman with two boys at home, you’ll be brought breakfast in bed on Sunday mornings and they’ll bring you roses all the time, and they will do this and that and you’ll be the Queen” and the bu&^shit goes on. Frankly, none of this has happened so far, and I’m thinking if two years and three months is a long time to still wait for that princess treatment.
Is it wrong to expect something like this?
That’s me on a Sunday morning, and the handsome servant right there is my dear husband pouring me the hot coffee in bed, while I watch Netflix and while the baby is being taken care of in the other room.
Oh, it’s wonderful to have a bright imagination, my mom friends would comment on this. Still, I think I’m not the only one out here thinking that these tiny creatures called toddlers during this very *particular* age span are being a^%holes and demanding our every bit of energy, attention, care and poop washing at 7 in the morning.
But the fact that they do it with that adorable grin on their face erases every bit of frustration and makes us love them even more.
Mmmm, not quite. I guess I said that out of #momguilt. I still feel frustrated and want my slow mornings back, but I guess they’ll never know until they’re able to read.
Until then, I’m off to make some milk cookies for lunch, because why not. “Mommy, come”. Gotta go.
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