Before I had McKinley (and back when I had the time to actually sit down and read and entire book and retain it) I had picked up this book published by the producers of the Baby Centre site that chronicles your baby's first year. It gives developmental guidelines and then has surveys from actual parents on things of interest like when your baby first started sleeping through the night, how long women breastfed, etc. etc. etc.

I distinctly remember reading that moms have a hormone that produces anxiety at the sound of their baby's crying. After having Mac this became very evident to me.  I remember getting furious when someone else was holding him and he'd start to cry and when I'd try to take him to comfort him they would wave me off and say he was fine.  It was a feeling very close to panic, and it was NOT nice.

It never completely went away for me but it definitely lessened over time. However after having Isaac I'm being reminded of that all over again. Which brings me to the scene tonight.  It's an other one of those not so funny in the moment but hilarious looking back scenarios that are becoming all too common in this house.

We had a really good day today. Isaac did a lot of sleeping and Mac was reasonably obedient for a three year old boy.  Mac took a good nap this afternoon and was playing pretty well mostly by himself when Harry got home from work. I was almost finished preparing supper when a friend called and asked if Harry could come help them put up the walls for his garage. It was only suppose to take a few minutes. Ha. Right.

Two hours later and we've eaten supper, Mac's taken his bath and I've done some laundry and Harry STILL isn't home. Mac was having a snack when thing suddenly started to go south. I don't remember what exactly started the whole standoff but it led to him sassing me which I'm trying to nip in the bud so down to timeout he went. Except he didn't stay in timeout. Which got him in more trouble, and a longer timeout. And then he left timeout again. And it just kept escalating and escalating until I decided that it was time for bed. He was clearly tired and quickly becoming irrational and this was going nowhere. I'm proud to say that I kept my cool despite all the yelling, crying, boogers and slobber that ensued. The problem was that all the yelling and crying got Isaac started as well. Soon, he was screaming at the top of his lungs too. So I decided to put him in his swing and let him scream while I quickly put Mac to bed.

Yeah. Right. "Quickly" doesn't exist in Mac's bedtime land. I've posted about his stall tactics before but here's where it gets funny. In his bedroom wall runs the drain pipe for the kitchen sink. When he was younger, it used to scare him so now at bed time he usually tells me "Mom, don't make the pipe make noise, OK?" as I'm leaving his room. He also asks me to leave the light on outside his room. This is his routine.

So we did his bedtime prayer, I hugged him, kissed him, kissed his bobos goodnight (that's an other one of his tactics) all the while trying not to get impatient with him because I can hear Isaac screaming blue bloody murder upstairs and it's really starting to get to me. Finally, I tell him I'm going upstairs. He lets me get to the door before he starts.

"Mom, don't make the pipe make noise, OK?"
"I won't, Mac. Goodnight."
*Tries to close door*
"Yes, Mac?"
"Don't turn my light off out there *points to outside his room*"
"I won't buddy. Night night."
*Tries to close door again*
"What, Mac?"
"Don't turn my turtle off please." (He has one of those twilight turtles that projects constellations onto the ceiling. I have never ONCE turned it off on him.)
"I've never turned it off buddy. Go to sleep. Mommy has to go upstairs and feed Isaac. Good night. Love you."
*Starts to close door AGAIN*
*Casting around for something to say*
"Don't tear my walls down please."
"And don't take my floor out, OK?"
*I'm now genuinely confused*
"Why would I take your floor out?"
"And don't rip my ceiling out."
"And don't take my bed apart."
"WAHHHHHHHHHHHHH" *Isaac is reaching a decibel level that I'm sure the entire neighbourhood can hear now*
"Mac, Mommy has never done that. GO. TO. BED. I love you."
"'Night buddy."
"Night night momma."
"Sleep tight."
"Sleep tight."
*As the door is closing*
"Momma, don't take my blankets off my bed."

And once again, somewhere, my mother is laughing herself silly.

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