Snippets of nighttime conversation

Had the child informed me that she was only going to sleep soundly until about 3:30am, I might have tried harder to overcome my insomnia prior to that time, but alas, my first clue was when she heard me sneaking back from the kitchen (I had just clandestinely eaten a cookie) and called to me with a smile, "Come here to me, Momma Fox!" and then instructed me to call her "my Baby Fox."

I assumed since she appeared to immediately be sleeping again that she was really just talking in the midst of a dream, as she often does, but I was wrong. She was actually gearing up for NIGHT OF NEEDINESS 2011!!! (Please use a monster truck announcer voice as you read that.)

It began small with comments like, "I really don't feel very well. Could you get me a tissue and do nose spray? That always helps my nose to work." At that stage, I felt very motherly and didn't mind continuing to be awake to take care of her, especially when she told me "You're the bestest for when I need something, and you're the bestest momma I've ever known and the only one I have." Even when she blundered into a statement that sounded like she thought Daddy was really more compassionate, she recovered well with a diplomatic answer to soothe my ego while still praising my choice in husbands.

I was feeling pretty good about my maternal instincts, but as the night wore on, my exhaustion started to take over. I propped her up on pillows to help with drainage, handed her her own tissue to wipe her own nose, and told her that we both needed rest. She would stay quiet briefly, but the moment I drifted off to sleep, she would comment again on the unpleasantness of illness, and I would once again be wide awake. This did not promote motherly affection.

Finally, she fell into a restful sleep again, and so did I, for a few hours. Unfortunately, a few hours has never been enough for me to function in a rational and considerate manner, so when she awoke and started describing her symptoms again, I was less than attentive.

Ambriel: My tummy hurts like it did yesterday, and my sneezes make the snot explode out of me, and      my coughing is the worstest: it makes everything hurt.

Me: Hmmm, mmmm.

Ambriel: Momma?

Me: Hmmm?

Ambriel: Don't you want to help me?!

Me: (hesitation) Yeeees.

Ambriel: No you don't! And I know why: 'cause the sneezes and coughs don't want you to. They want me to stay sick FOREVER. Is that what you want?!

Me: (hesitation) Noooo.

Ambriel: I'm a little too tired to get a yogurt. Could you get me one?

Me: (dozing off)

Ambriel: MOMMA! Don't you love me anymore?

Me: (hesitation followed by guilt and an attempt to muster the strength to stand and walk.)

So I got up and got her a yogurt. Then I put her in the bathtub, because she believes warm water can cure any ill, which is how I snuck away to tell you all about my night :)

She's calling, though.

Ambriel: Momma, I don't want to be a prune-y raisin!

Why teaching a child healthy eating habits may not be such a great idea after all.

Since my own healthy living awakening occurred during her infancy, I have been trying to teach my daughter how to live a healthy lifestyle. One concept that has really sunk in with her is the idea of "fun foods" or "sometimes treats." I don't believe I've ever seen her finish an entire small order of fries, and she has turned down numerous cookies from grown-ups because she "already had a treat today."

This sounds great, until I'm having one of those days where popcorn or french fries end up being the main part of lunch, but she won't finish because she doesn't want to be unhealthy. I have to listen to complaints of hunger through the rest of our errands because I didn't think ahead to pack organic apples or whole grain, natural peanut butter, no high-fructose corn syrup jelly sandwiches.

Additionally, now when I fall off the wagon and just want to eat cake, or pie, or cookies, or some combination of the three, I have a little external, spectacled conscience telling me that those aren't good choices for me and I should just go get a piece of fruit to eat.

So, if I want to indulge anyway, I have to find a way to grocery shop without my nearly 24/7 companion, hide the contraband in places she can't reach even with a chair, and then manage to consume it while she is sleeping or completely distracted. It's almost not worth it. Almost.

Disturbingly chipper

Ambriel began her day today around 7am when she crawled into my bed and promptly went back to sleep. Having suffered insomnia last night, I welcomed the chance to sleep in, but started feeling disturbed when 11:05 rolled around and she was still sound asleep. She was smiling as if having wonderful dreams, when suddenly her eyes popped open, she grinned, and threw her arms around my neck. I was immediately suspicious, as I don't believe any amount of sleeping in justifies such bouncy behavior so soon after waking up, especially when she is supposed to be sick right now. 

My distrust had the desired effect of dampening her spirits temporarily, but she was soon dancing behind me in the kitchen, as I made breakfast and the all important coffee, singing "Questions are for answering, Momma. Questions need answers!" 

Well I have a question: how was such a perky child made from my genetic material? 

Let's give this a shot.

Forgive me for indulging in the belief that other people might like hearing more in depth stories of my adventures with my daughter. If it's a colossal failure, perhaps it will teach me humility.