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It’s 5:30 in the morning and I’m stirred awake by my husbands absolutely beautifully annoying alarm going off in my ear. I man shove him to wake up and shut it off, while trying to maintain some ounce of sleep. He swats my hand away with his elbow, attempting to roll over as if nothing is going on. I depressingly sigh, fighting the urge to storm up out of the bed and drag him out of it. After a couple of minutes passes, he angrily gets up and gets his day started. I throw a pillow over my head and slowly go back to sleep.
I’m in the middle of an absolute crazy dream when I suddenly feel something cold and hard on my hand. It immediately startles me, but I try to pay it no mind. That is until I hear the wonderful, “MOM!” My eyes open immediately and I’m greeted by my wonderful 18-month-old, smiling and jabbing away at me.
Somehow she escaped her crib. And it’s not a tiny crib by any means, it’s a good two almost three-foot drop from the top of the railing to the floor, and yet, there she is.
I look around and listen to see if maybe her brother took her out and went downstairs. I check his room, with her laughing and waddle running quickly behind me, and he’s still fast asleep in snore land. I turn around to head to the bathroom, being poked and jabbed the entire way, trying to figure out how she got out of her crib. She’s just digging and rustling through the sink cabinet, smacking everything out on to the floor.
My temple bulged, hunching over myself on the toilet, absolutely exhausted. The bat signal was launched, and my beyond quirky toddler took it upon herself to act. A flurry of hands filled the cabinet under the sink. I turn my head so as to get a peek at what she was getting into. With a quickness, a gray rounded object comes flying at my face, my eyes unable to focus.
What was silent, erupted into toddler laughs.
She had smacked me in the face with one of my cloth pads and thought it was absolutely hysterical. I on the other hand didn’t find it too funny. As I bent down to pick up the contorted pad, she turned her head sideways and bolted out of the bathroom. Filling the hall and bedroom with her elated laughter.
Jesus is testing me this morning. He’s saying, “Let me throw every possible wrench into your wheel. Let’s burn your normalcy to the damn ground!”
After a few minutes of potty peek-a-boo, I decided it was time to get up and do something with myself. But not before I slip on a block and face plant on my bathroom floor. As I lay there contemplating the meaning of life, my toddler runs over and says, “Mommy okay?”
I grunted to acknowledge her question, followed by her little hands violently patting my head in response. I didn’t have a headache when I woke up, but one was creeping up on me faster than I could blink my eyes. So I decided to lay her back down in her crib and try to get a little bit of shut-eye before 9 am came rolling around.
She however, well she had other plans.
We went through the merry-go-round of laying her down, two minutes later she’s in my face again for almost an hour before I just gave in. Yup, you read that right, I conceded, tossed the white flag, surrendered, ceased resistance. I gave up.
She just giggled in acceptance and we headed downstairs to start our morning together.
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