It’s 3am I must be lonely

Last night, at about 3am, Lily drunkenly stumbled into our bedroom. I woke up instinctively feeling the floor to my left move (it’s one of the benefits of being hard of hearing) and found her hair on face, full moon, and the all too familiar smell of 3am pee-pee. I stood up in the darkness, held my hand out to pause her and said, “Howld bon. Lemme goin get da wipes. Frstay here bwaby.” No sooner did I stand up, she flew like a weightless astronaut into the bed, succumbed her head to my pillow, and pulled my, MY blanket up to her chin. 
So I stood there. The pee-pee soaked full moon was now in my spot. Her bed was temporarily inoperable, and I asked myself the question I ask myself at 3am, “Am. I. Awake. Enough. To deal with this. Properly.” Deciding no, I hauled off to the sofa with a tiny square pillow and a blanket you could swaddle a newborn up in. I did not fall back to sleep. Thank you so much for asking.

This is life with a four year old.

Today she went off to school, in great spirits as always, because thou shall not show our teachers thoust truest selves. Upon picking her up at the end of the day, her teacher gently approached me. “Does she, have sunburn? Or something? She has a red mark on her forehead. I touched it and asked her if it hurt and she said no.”

I stared at her with my most polite having it together mommy face and then said, “Oh! The pink on her head! Oh yeah no, that’s not sunburn. Yeah, no. That’s from Halloween. It’s hair dye. It hasn’t come off yet.” 

Walking down the hall to her classroom and having diverted that, I pick her up and we head out for the weekend. As I load her into the car, I notice her Avengers lunchbox doesn’t have her name on it. I pause. “Am I. Awake. Enough. To deal with this. Properly.” I asked myself again. 

I decided no, and tossed poor Ethan’s lunchbox into the back of our car. We’ll wash his Tupperware nice and clean, I tell myself as we drive home. It’s fine. Then I remember her lunch box. I packed everything in zip lock bags this morning, and I actually hear myself say, “Dangit! Now all Ethan’s mom has to do is hold onto it, and I’m all washing dishes.”

I need to go back to work. 


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