"just one more and that's it"

Bedtime. It's been quite an evolution.

Naturally, when Scarlett was a baby getting her to bed was a piece of cake. Before the mattress was lowered I was able to gently rest her peaceful body in the crib without waking her. She had two or three plush friends to keep her company but her crib was for sleeping. Those were some short-lived nights.

As time moved forward the crib mattress was lowered. It finally became so low that instead of placing Scarlett carefully into softness I was basically dropping her down with a plop. I explained my challenges, apologized for my height and my T-Rex arms. She didn't seem to care either way. And one day soon it wouldn't matter how she was placed into that crib because she would rise immediately to jump and protest rest.

At present time there are fourteen stuffed friends in her crib. I know this because after placing four blankets on Scarlett (and describing each blankets' origin - i.e. "this is the one that Mama used to take to work" or "this one is from Auntie Kyndra and Gloria") I am to count the plushies as I toss each one in the crib while she makes the animal's sound and gives them a kiss. This comes after reading anywhere from four to eight books and singing up to ten songs. There is always the plead of, "just one more and that's it!" Be it a book or a song. And if I give in to that one there is always another request on deck. This happens every night at bedtime. She tries to incorporate this seemingly never-ending routine at 'nap' time (which, I should mention, is the time when Scarlett puts on a Broadway show rather than sleeps) but I pleasantly refuse. We still launch the blankets and animals but we skip the twenty-five minutes of books and songs. After all, I need to rest my voice for later.

About seventy percent of the time Scarlett still cries when I leave the room. She has been known to cry out, "sing Show Me The Way To Go Home and that's it!" as I'm descending the stairs. Or, "Mama, I need to sing 'funny Frosty'!" (Funny Frosty is a version of Frosty the Snowman where I change the words and she corrects me). I am convinced that she would hold me hostage until midnight if she could just figure out how.

God, I love her.

Scarlett's first emergency visit ...

Well, I guess very few parents escape the horrors of the emergency visit. We got ours out of the way on Wednesday night. Lucky and thankful that it wasn't very serious.

Scarlett is known for her rough and tumble ways, her defiance and her flailing. She twisted away from Gregg when she didn't feel like cleaning up the aftermath of a potted plant incident... and she hurt her arm. She was holding her wrist and crying in pain so she needed to be checked out.

The trip to the emergency walk-in center was a bit rough. Luckily, Gregg's mom was able to take care of Scarlett and keep her as comfortable as possible while Gregg filled out all of the paperwork. I met them there and when I arrived she was having x-rays taken. The x-rays showed that the bones were fine and the doctor figured it was a dislocated elbow (nursemaid's elbow) and did the proper "adjustments" to her arm. We felt so badly seeing her in pain like that. Grandma rocked her and sang to her until it was time to head home. Scarlett wore a makeshift sling and got to stay up extra late and watch her favorite television show on the couch.

If you read my last post then you are already aware of Scarlett's new attitude and defiance. Just last week she decided she will no longer take medicine. Perfect. So, the doctor prescribed Tylenol with codeine and we weren't able to get that down her throat after trying several ways. She basically went to bed in pain and woke several times each hour - crying for a few seconds and falling back to sleep. Poor lil thing.

Thursday was very challenging. Gregg worked from 9-7 and I basically spent the day trying to keep her comfortable - and sneaking her regular Tylenol into different foods. It easily went down in her morning yogurt smoothie. Lunch was tough - had to resort to using yogurt again. After dinner we had frozen yogurt with meds mixed in chocolate syrup - I thought that was clever hehe. She held her arm up as if it were in a sling all day. She used only the good arm. I had a feeling that half of her reluctance was due to fear of pain. I kept testing her. Almost tricking her into using her bad arm. By 6 pm she was 'forgetting' from time to time and picking up toys with the bad arm. And by the time Daddy got home from work she was rolling around on the floor and putting her weight on it. YES!!!!!

She slept soundly all night, I thought we were in the clear. While getting her dressed she was holding her arm again, begging me to not change her clothes. I did it anyway. I moved her arm all around and it was fine but when I twisted it slightly she cried in pain. So I called the orthopedic doctor like we were instructed. We had a quick visit there and the doc said he thinks it is fine but made us an appointment with a pediatric orthopedic doctor for Monday. Ugh.

Scarlett had a miraculous recovery this afternoon it seems. She's back to being a little bull. I decided not to keep the Monday appointment and we are hoping she's all out of pain. I stopped giving her meds as of noon and she's been using that arm for everything. I think we're GOOD !!

You never want to see your child in pain but from the get-go we were so thankful that it wasn't anything serious. The same thing happened to me twice at her age - and is very common from ages 2-5, especially in girls. Once it happens - it is very easy to do it again so we've gotta be diligent. HA! Impossible.

The Scarlett Letters: let's get a few things straight...

Dearest Lemon-pie,

WHAT ARE YOU TRYING TO DO TO ME??

Eh, I'm half kidding. Let's just say you've been "testy" lately ... and trying every ounce of patience I have. Some days I'm not sure who's winning. It seems that you believe that I am winning and I believe that you are winning. So we battle harder.

Let's clear up a few things...

You are 27 months old. How is it that you are strutting around the house like you just paid off the mortgage? You're constantly throwing your things everywhere, tossing food on the ground like this is some half-assed diner. Demanding diaper changes, snacks and Mickey videos. Listen up, kid, I run the show.

If I say we are drying your hair post-bath so your teeth will stop chattering - it's happening.

When I tell you to stop using the television screen as an easel - STOP IT.

When I put dinner in front of you which you refuse to eat and you immediately pull the pin on your little grenade - you aren't getting your wish of cookies, your alternate option is yogurt or nothing.

Just because I accidentally zipped your skin in your jacket ONE TIME doesn't mean that every zipper is going to ruin your life. I SAID I WAS SORRY, CRIPES !!! Let it go, kid.

When you flail around like a lunatic during our bedtime rocking/reading session it only makes me shorten the ritual. I feel like Danny DeVito trying to rock Shaq up there. You are clearly longer than my lap and legs, I know it's awkward - I can't stretch out like taffy so please try to settle in and just enjoy it. I'm pretty sure that glider is about to collapse any day now anyway.

When it's nap time and you run into the corner I can still see you. I will come get you, peel you from the floor and carry your arched body to the crib. It's going to happen.

When you decide that you can't handle the skin from the tomatoes or that you don't like blueberries today you needn't hand me every single unacceptable morsel to be taken to the trash that very moment - you can keep them on your plate until meal time is over.

You cannot eat all of the marshmallows out of the cereal canister. Mallow Oats will simply be OATS if you do that. Trust me, it's better this way.

Stop sticking your head through the bannister. Just stop it.

The staircase is not a place to put on a jazz show. Just move your bum up the stairs and don't worry about who carries blanky and who carries bunny. We will all be together again in fifteen seconds.

I always love you. Even when you're driving me mad because you refuse to have your nails clipped and I have to go sit in the other room on the couch for two minutes and breathe- I love you. When you roll over on the changing table like an alligator nailing its prey because I'm trying to get the "floofies" out of your nose and you've got some kind of mental block against tissues and q-tips - I love you. When you throw rocks at the glass door - I love you. When you take it upon yourself to get the chapstick out of the "do not enter" drawer - I love you.

It is apparent that you are going to fight me on everything for the next couple of years and I'm going to do my best to mentally (and physically) prepare myself. (Think: running bleachers and meditation). You're beyond stubborn. Potty training will most definitely have me rocking in a corner somewhere. But I love you. You're my wonderful, smart, adorably funny little girl. You're going to be a huge challenge but it's alright - we will get through it.

xo
Mama