I’ve been waiting on myself to begin. I knew it was time to get back to this and I knew it was time for a shift. I shut down the old blog, bought a new name, and created a new site. A new chapter. But how to begin, Becca, how to start. The pressure. Y’all are like,...
This content has been archived. It may no longer be relevant
The other night before bed, Jax said, “I’m going to make a logging truck tomorrow.”
To the untrained ear, this sounds perfectly lovely. For those of you who know that my son speaks exclusively in questions, you might even say, “Great statement, Jax!”
No. Stop yourselves. No, no, no. Allow me to translate.
English– I’m going to make a logging truck tomorrow.
JaxSpeak – Mom! Mom! Mom! It’s bedtime, and I am thinking about what I am going to do tomorrow morning. I’m EXCITED!! So hey! I will wake you up at 4am, and we will get our logging truck groove on. Ok? OK! Yesss!!
Guys. This can’t happen. I have hit my absurdly early morning limit. It’s like Jax came with so many 4am mornings, and they just ran out. They. Just. Ran. Out.
Telling Jax to go back to sleep is like telling Jim Carrey you’d like a little less energy. Not gonna happen. And hey, a super early morning might just mean a nap. And that’s like a gift from the mothering gods at this age. So how do I get Jax to spring out of bed while happily letting me bond with my pillow for a few more hours?
I weighed my options looking for a win-win.
Alright little dude. How about this. I will mix up some yogurt and fruit. I will put it in the fridge next to a glass of juice. I won’t wake up with you. His eyes got big…before he could interrupt, I practically yelled… BUT! You get to go in the fridge by yourself, like a grown up, get your breakfast and eat it while going to logging truck crazy town. I will even let you play with your toys while eating. He looked skeptical. AND… and-and-and what else do I have…c’mon Becca…. you can watch your iPad while eating! I am an evil, tired temptress.
I looked at my kid. He looked at me.
“Because I’m a big kid now. Right?”
“Right.” And because mom now has a visceral hostile reaction when she sees the number 4.
We tried it the next morning. Success! Jax sprung out of bed at some ungodly dark hour, I slept until 6:15, thanked the universe for a full night of sleep, and walked out to a happy, fed child messing with a cardboard box turned logging truck. The iPad, that winning ticket, was playing Justin Bieber, but I was so gosh-darn rested, it sounded downright pleasant.
Jax said, “Mom! Tomorrow I’ll make a wrecker tow truck! I’ll need Cheez-Its. And the Sharpies.”
Nice try, kiddo. Nice try.