The 3 am standoff

This week I have been solo parenting and mad respect to single parents. I think of others who has to do this every. single. day. My God. Don’t get me wrong, I love my little maniac, but shit, this kid (who is only three btw) is able to destroy me. I don’t mean to sound dramatic, but when it’s 3 am and she’s screaming for you because she wet the bed and you’re stumbling around like a drunk college kid trying to get your shit together, only to see your daughter covered in pee, her bed covered in pee and soon enough, you’re covered in pee. I didn’t think I’d talk so much about pee in my life, but anyways, you’re getting the point. One main difference was I had to tackle this solo. Usually, Tolga is right along with me, stumbling and fumbling our way through this madness. But he’s gone this week, and here I am, standing in the middle of a dark hallway, covered in pee, trying to convince my child, that no, sweetheart, we can’t have waffles at 4 am, because mama is exhausted and about to cry from sheer frustration and anger. Sound familiar? It’s funny, because when I was in university and came home from a night at the bar, I’d always demanded French toast from my sober room mate. So, there she was, standing in a dark hallway, with a 22 year old crying out about breakfast foods at 3 am. Karma’s a bitch, and its name is breakfast at ungodly hours in the morning. Like mother, like daughter I suppose.

Needless to say, the next day, I mustered through it as a half-zombie, half-caffeinated fiend and Lord helped the person who looked at me the wrong way. Once again, special shout-out to those who do this solo all the time. I was going to get through the night with simply saying yes. ‘Want that ice cream for dinner?’ Sure! ‘ Want to watch TV for 2 hours straight while mommy goes upstairs and briefly closes her eyes on a chair, as to not actually fall asleep, but just enough to get her through the next few hours.’ Why not?! I’m sure Emily thought it was the best night of her life. What can I say, tiredness is my weakness and I become a bit of a door mat with my kid when I want to avoid a meltdown, because I’m afraid I’d be right down on the floor beside her.

However, we both received the blessed gift of sleep. YASSSSSSSSSS!!!! Holy shit, I never thought I’d wanted something so simple as a good night sleep, but here we are. I actually got up with my alarm on the first ring. I didn’t even hit snooze! Success! But now, it’s time for me to awaken the beast, as I need to head off to work. Pray for mojo that this doesn’t end up as a re-enactment from Braveheart battle scene. If you think this is dramatic, then you haven’t had the pleasure of seeing a three-year-old temper tantrum. Consider yourself #blessed.

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