Spidey-Hiney

Monday night. No Bachelor to watch. No husband to snuggle with-- yet. It's 10 PM. The baby has been in his crib for an hour listening to his mobile and cooing. I gave the older boys 5 minutes to get in their pj's and brush their teeth. Then I went into my bathroom to do the same. When I came out, I heard a terrible cry from the nursery. My baby was being tortured by a mean, albino 4 year old. Zack was inside the crib screaming at the top of his lungs, "BE QUIET!! GO TO SLEEP!!!" I flung open the door, grabbed the terrible twit by his arms and yanked him out of the crib. Oh- did I mention he was wearing only undies and was holding a plastic dart gun? Well, he was. I swatted his spiderman-hiney and told him he had ONE minute before the lights went out. I swaddled my baby, gave him several kisses and put him safely back in his crib. Then I marched into the boys room, turned off the lights and heard another wail from my wild child, "I DON'T HAVE MY PAJAMAS ON! I CAN'T SEE MY TAG!" (as if putting his pajamas on backwards has ever been a concern of his.) I told him it didn't matter. He could sleep in his underwear, for all I care. He whimpered and I decided to yell in his face, the same way he attacked my favorite baby. "BE QUIET!! GO TO SLEEP!!!" Then real tears came out of his eyes. I am officially the worst mother ever. But at least I wasn't holding any pretend weapons, right? He came out a minute later with his pjs in hand and asked me if I would help dress him. I said yes and asked him if he liked being yelled at. He shook his head no. We made a deal that if he doesn't scream at the baby anymore, I won't scream at him. I hope I can hold up my end of the bargain.

It's now 11 PM and I just finished reading the first half of Pioneer Woman's Love Story. WowEE. That was a million times better than the most DRAMATIC rose ceremony ever. I cannot wait for it to be made into a movie. I wish I could read the ending, but my hard-working, basketball-playin' husband just walked through the door and I must save it for another time. I hope tomorrow night turns out just as fabulous as tonight. There's nothing like a good (real) love story to cure all motherhood woes. One solid hour of peace and quiet does wonders for the soul. Off to cuddle with the man who was made for me.