Put Her in Charge, Man

I have about fourteen minutes until my stuffed peppers are ready.  That means I have just a few minutes to rant and try to get my shoulders to stop touching my ears.  Yeah, Maddie put me in my place for sure.  She heard I was feeling a bit like Super Woman and decided to show me who's boss.  Seriously, though, we've been doing really well in Joe's absence.  She's been sleeping pretty damn well at night, and our days haven't been too overwhelming, despite the afternoon wall.  Until today.

Three o'clock hit this afternoon, and a timer must have gone off in Maddie's head.  Oh yes, it is time to go completely bat crap insane, ding!  I won't say that it was continuous for four hours, but instead that there was intermittent crying/screaming at a high frequency until she went to bed.  She was visibly tired - rubbing eyes and arching to her side to sleep.  Yet every.time.I.put.her.down, she'd just cry instead of sleep.  Even if just changed and fed.  I even went outside for a bit in an effort to let her cry it out for a few minutes.  Came back in and no dice.  Today was definitely the whole "I will not nap, so FUCK YOU, MOM!"  We tried the crib, the swing, her rock n play sleep hammock (aka the yellow thing), and a blanket on the floor.  The most I got was 20 minutes in her yellow thing.  I cried too, screamed at times.  Begged her to tell me what to do to help her.  She would stop, smile, and then WAHHHHHHHH.  Holy cow. 

She is asleep now, and I am terrified she will not stay that way.  Even the dogs are out of whack.  Just before her bedtime, Dexter was walking around nervously...ears and tail down.  He just kept looking at me, and I at him.  At one point we embraced.  He even came to investigate while I bathed her (and he normally won't go near the bath)...because of course she cried in the tub as well, though that's normally a happy place.  No more.  Maddie's proverbial march to bedtime has left this place in emotional ruin.  Amidst all of this, I've counted that I've had six Godiva chocolates.  They were the wrong chocolates that Joe got me for V-day and was going to return for my beloved truffles.  But then today I found them melting in the back of his car.  Kind of made me sad that that's where my "gift" ended up...and in good faith you can't return melted chocolates, even if still sealed in the box.  So I've been knockin' 'em back, along with a very small glass of wine.  Worth every calorie too.

Three minutes left until dinner.  Whew.  I feel better.  Maybe another finger's worth of wine, and I'll be in good shape.  My shoulder's are about halfway down to where they should be.  The dogs are both passed out, no doubt relieved.  And Joe...well, he missed all the fun...

PS.  The peppers are a quick heat from last night.  In case you were wondering about my time line.