I stayed up until 1:00 cleaning downstairs. As I headed upstairs to finally go to sleep, I was met with both Husband's bear-like snore and C's crying for her pumpkin.
That's right. She's sleeping with the pumpkin she painted at school. She is obsessed with it. And because it is a pumpkin, it rolls, usually out of her bed.
So, I retrieved the pumpkin, tucked her back in, sang a few songs, and left. I needed pajamas, so I dove into the mountain of clean and yet to be folded clothes in the guest/Wilson's room. I was so distracted by my inability to find clothes that I decided to fold some while waiting for C to actually fall asleep again.
That would have been an excellent plan...had she ever gone back to sleep. Instead, we began a seemingly endless cycle of her getting out of bed and coming to find me in fifteen minute intervals.
I was far past the point of patience and turned into Mean Mommy, which isn't fun for anyone, and pulled out the big guns-the guilt trip. So I told C that Mommy can't sleep until she sleeps and that Mommy and baby Wilson are very tired. Then I told her not to get out of her bed until it was sunny outside.
She said, "Mommy, I'm sorry," and then made me sing three songs before she would pretend to sleep again.
The guilt trip clearly didn't work as the cycle of visits continued for two hours straight. Finally, at almost 3:00, I picked her up without saying a word, marched her back to her room, stuck her in her bed, kissed her, then turned around and left.
Mean Mommy is tired.
I watched her on the monitor as she fidgeted with her pumpkin, readjusted her blanket. Then, finally, FINALLY, she fell asleep. We'll see how long that lasts.
Update: it's 3:08. And she's up again. Seriously, why does she hate sleep?!
Silver lining? My mountain of laundry is now completely folded.