Game On

Dear Emma,

You and I have quite the history in your short little life. I lived in Vietnam for 4 weeks just waiting to get you and then I waited for 3 weeks terrified that you wouldn't receive a visa so I could bring you home. Then once you came home, you landed in the hospital 10 days later with RSV. The 6 days you were on a ventilator were incredibly scary and I feared that I had lived through hell just to lose you. But you are one stubborn little girl and it took more than those obstacles to hold you down.

Maybe those scares are what have led to my permissiveness with you. Or perhaps it's because I know you are truly my last baby. Or maybe it's just because when you get something in your head you're going to do it your way no matter what anyone tells you to the contrary. Like getting into the dogs' food and water bowls over and over and over and over again. And over again. You get the point. For I while I thought perhaps your previous malnutrition had affected your reasoning skills. Now I know you're just bull headed.

Your list of special privileges is long and notorious but the top of the list is your bottle. Emma Linh, you are 20 months old and you still need your bottle at nap and bedtime and multiple times through the night. Emma, Mommy is tired and old. I'm tired of getting up multiple times in the middle of the night to give you a bottle. Not to mention you're messing with my REM cycle and my dreams. I can't even remember the last time I had a dream and some nights Mommy could use a good dream or two. Sweetie, I love you but I there is a long list of sins I would commit just for 4 precious hours of consecutive sleep. Dare I dream of 7-8? Nope, I can't. You're too busy waking me up to even have that dream. But two nights ago was the last straw. You woke up three times between midnight and 5 am and then I had to get up at 6:30. It was time for your bottle to go. Zombie Mommy makes a Cranky Mommy and no one wants that. Trust me on this.

Last night I gave you a bottle when you went to bed but you drank it all and wanted another. I decided it was time for the madness to stop. I was so wrong. The madness had only just begun. For 2 hours you cried and carried on, most of which was at my feet or on my lap. I would tell you that your bottle was "all gone" and hand you a sippy cup which you would violently throw on the floor, all the while clutching desperately to your empty bottle. Finally, around 12:30 a.m., after you had happily colored on paper while Mommy cleaned up the kitchen, we went to bed together in my bed. And you went to sleep. Without a bottle. And without tears. Sure you woke up at 5:00 and wanted one, and I gave you one out of sleep deprivation and desperation, but we'll take the small victories.

Today you got a bottle at nap time only because Grandma was watching you. You didn't even know I was gone. You were so exhausted from the night before that you took an almost 4 hour nap. Mommy could have used a nap too. Instead Mommy got to take Ryan to the doctor to find out that finally he was going to get ear tubes. At least I thought you were sleeping. I think you were scheming ways to pay me back.

When you finally woke up, I cuddled you on my lap and then I felt something really warm and really wet. Could you have...?

Yes, you peed on my lap. Pay back, baby. All's fair in love and war and taking away your bottle was a declaration of war.

Game on.

Love,
Mommy