Ludicrous Mama is back. She sent this to us after getting about three hours of sleep. It sounds like she’s come to the conclusion that it’s been her “turn” for a while, and now she’s. . . done. You can find more of her writing here at World’s Worst Moms or at her blog, Biting the Hand the Feeds You.
I will let my child go to bed hungry. That’s right. You heard me! If she farts around during dinner time and declines any substitutes offered before bath time, then starts whining that she’s hungry at lights out, I tell her she can have an extra big breakfast tomorrow. I mean, it’s not like she’s gonna starve to DEATH overnight or anything. And I’m not a tyrant saying, “Eat this or eat NOTHING!” when it comes to dinner. I’ll let her have a PBJ, cheese, carrots or apple if she didn’t want what we were eating. I’ll even let her eat in the bath, if she wants. But once that toothbrush hits her mouth, my responsibility for feeding her is OVER. She lost her chance. I usually even remind her and offer her a healthy snack at every transition time (dinner to play time, play to bath, bath to teeth brushing).
My husband, on the other hand, will bring her Goldfish crackers, grapes or apples (sometimes more than once!). So now when she asks me for a snack and I tell her no, she asks for Daddy. So then I tell her that if she wants Daddy, I’m not coming back to lie down with her after (She still has one of us in the room to fall asleep. Hey. We moved her into her own room finally. Baby steps, people.). So a part of me is ashamed that I will use this as an excuse to
play Farmville blog instead of comfort my child. But the other part of me reminds myself that I did bedtime for the first 30 months, attached at the nips, sometimes for hours, so it’s someone ELSE’S turn now!
I have also been guilty of lazy potty training. Early one morning, 3:30 a.m., I get woken up by, “Mommmeeeee. I need to go pottteeeee.” Mrph. Nguh. After days and days of having her sit on the potty with no results, I don’t feel it’s worth getting up just to have her use stall tactics to avoid going back to bed. “Just go in your diaper and go back to sleep, honey.”
I hear my husband get up in disgust, and I can feel his eyes shooting daggers at me, and I don’t care. Back to sleep I go. Turns out she peed. In the potty. Lots. Oh well.
The next two nights, when she pulled the same trick, I got up, and she peed again. Yay. Apparently she only uses the potty when we’re in a disgusting public restroom where I don’t even want my shoes touching anything, or when I’m so tired I’d be willing to murder someone just to get a little sleep. Joy.