Let's all take a deep breath...aaaahhhhhh.
Ya, it's 10 PM and I'm going on less than 2.5 hours of sleep - but hey, it's silent and I know that the minute my head touches my pillow, I will be getting up again...
Anyway, Lily lost her pacifier.
No really...I know how bad it is that she still has it. She has horrible speech because of it, her teeth are turning because of it, it is always getting lost and then we spend hours finding it.
Well, she lost it yesterday - for good. We just can't find it.
I know what you are thinking. This is good, about time, she's 3.5 for goodness sake! Well, people, hold your horses - let me tell you something:
Lily is loud. So amazingly loud that she amazes even the loudest of people. And Lily is the middle child - demanding, outspoken, stubborn and focused.
Once, when she was 1.5, she lost her paci in the middle of the night and since I just had the baby (who I've come to accept is no longer a baby but a punk who is almost 2, agh!) I didn't get up to help her. Ok, let's be honest...I was exhausted. I didn't hear her. She began screaming.
This was in August in the hottest time of the year, windows fully open, box fans on high and I didn't hear her.
Well, apparently someone did.
And apparently they thought someone was being killed. So they called the cops.
I know, I know, babies cry. Well, Lily's angry cry does sound like someone is being murdered, but still - hadn't my neighbors heard her do this in the middle of the day?
So the police came out and knocked on my door. I didn't answer. They left. If I can't hear the murderous scream, you really think I can hear the door being knocked on?
I guess she stopped, and then started up again. They called the police. Again! Really people, come on. We aren't the quiet family on the block if you know what I mean...we have 7 million children who are all in diapers...don't kids cry in the middle of the night where you come from?
Well, the police came again. And knocked. Again. And I didn't hear them. Again.
So, at six in the morning, my son who was 3 at the time decided it would be an awesome idea to sneak into the garage, open the garage door and start pulling in the Christmas decorations thinking they were in fact Christmas presents. And of course, in that moment of parenting glory, the police pull up again.
I had warned him. I had told him if he continued to sneak away, run off, the police were going to take him to baby jail. And here they were.
He runs up the stairs screaming, "THEY ARE HERE! THEY ARE HERE!!!"
"Who's here Luke?"
"The Powice Officawhs!"
In my post baby, sleep deprived state I walked down the stairs greeted by two rather unfriendly police officers.
I was then accused of being a neglectful parent. I was informed that I was "lucky" I answered this time, otherwise they were going to knock down my door (I didn't know a crying baby was means to knocking on the door, but apparently it is) and I was instructed to no longer use our faithful little box fans to cool down our house.
I shut the door not exactly sure of what just happened, but one thing I knew for sure - that paci wasn't going anywhere.
It's amazing what happens when you are a good mom and accused of being a bad one...the anxiety that comes with that.
Anyway - I know it's been 2 years since then. But she's still loud. And it's summer. And well, my excuses are a mile long...
Last night, she didn't fall asleep until 11 PM and was in my bed this morning at 5. Tonight though, oh tonight, she was out like a light at 8.
She did inform me that she just knows the "paci fairy" took it and that she "doesn't wike the paci fairy...the paci fairy is dumb...the paci fairy needs to shub up (yes, all bad words in our home punishable by time on the naughty step, but that didn't stop her)" She wanted me to call the paci fairy this morning so she could have a little 1 on 1, but for some odd reason, I could never connect with her.
Anyway, I think it's gone. Forever.
Ahhh, a new phase of life.
And now, I'm going to bed...for at least ten minutes.