Certifiable

Psycho mom made an appearance in our house not too long ago. Although she hasn't made an appearance here in a long while, she was a regular here in the early days. Our older son is going through a challenging stage, presenting with a level of mania that we are not sure is emerging bi polar disorder or perhaps is a reaction to a medication he is taking. Answers are slow to come...I guess to slow for psycho mom this time around.

She only comes out at night, you know. That is when my defenses are down and my son's testing is at its finest. It was some time before midnight, and he was pacing the halls. Up. Down. Up. Down. I had already put in a couple hours of trying to get him to settle.

"Bed, please," he says. Victory! Yes! You bet! I will help you get into bed!! There go go! Sheets are straight. Blankets are in place. Here is your favorite toy. A kiss on the forehead will send you off into slumberland in no time!

"I love you," I say as I close his door and put up the baby gate in the door frame. He can plow through that baby gate, but it at least slows him down, thus giving me time to reach him and intercept him from whatever troublesome goal he is attempting at the time.

Whew! Finally done!

I walk downstairs, turn on the video monitors that allows me to monitor his safety when he is in his room, and I collapse on the couch.

"Mamamommy! I want upstairs, please!"

No, I did NOT just hear that.

"MAMAMOMMY! I WANT UPSTAIRS, PLEASE!"

"Okay," I yell. "I hear you!"

Ugh. Back upstairs. Baby gate dismantled. Door open.

"Vacuum, please."

"You want a vacuum?" I ask. "Which vacuum?"

"I want...green...vacuum, please," he responded.

Son of a gun! What am I, his assistant? I run downstairs to his vacuum room and scan. There are three green vacuums. I take my chances with one, put on my happy face and march upstairs. Let's not ruin the momentum, people! We are focused on SLEEP!!

"Here you go, buddy! One green vacuum."

"Bed, please." he said.

Sigh. "Alrighty. You want it in your bed. Whatever floats your boat." I said as I tucked them both under the covers. "Goodnight."

Door closed. Gate mounted. Back downstairs to the couch. Thank goodness!

"Mamamommy, I want upstairs, please!"

HE DID NOT FREAKIN JUST SAY THAT!

"MAMAMOMMY? I WANT UPSTAIRS, PLEASE!!"

"I CAN HEAR YOU! AND YOU SHOULD BE IN BED, KID!!" I yell as I stomp through the house and up the stairs. Gate down. Door open.

"NOW WHAT??"

"I want downstairs, please?" He said.

"YOU want WHAT downstairs?" I ask with no amount of patience in my voice.

"Vacuum downstairs, please."

GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR! "I just brought that thing up here!" I said, knowing that it was futile. If I had any hope of settling him, that vacuum needed to go. Otherwise, he would fix his brain on its presence, and he would absolutely NUTS. Sleep. We want sleep.

Stupid vacuum. It isn't its fault, but I can't call my kid stupid. So, I'm blaming the vacuum. Vacuum out. Kid tucked in. Door closed. Gate mounted. Vacuum and mom back downstairs.

Humph! Back on the couch.

"Mamamomy"

"WHATINTHEHELLDOYOUWANTNOW?!!!!!" This is psycho mom. She curses and runs all of her words together. "ITSBEDTIME! BEDTIME! BEDTIME!" She says. Gate down. Door open. Kid standing in the middle of the room.

"I want downstairs, please."

"NO DOWNSTAIRS. BED"

"I want downstairs, please."

"BED!"

"I want downstairs, please."

"GET IN BED AND STAY IN BED AND GO TO SLEEP UNTIL YOU ARE 100 YEARS OLD!!" Psycho mom breathes fire, and her eyes bulge out of her forehead. I don't even think she is human.

"IF YOU DON'T SETTLE RIGHT NOW, YOU ARE GOING TO WISH YOU DIDN'T WAKE UP TODAY! I AM CLOSING THIS DOOR, AND I AM FINISHED BEING YOUR ERRAND GIRL. GET IN BED! STAY IN BED! DON'T THINK ABOUT CRYING BECAUSE I AM NOT LISTENING!"

She closed the door, and our son started crying. He wanted out. He wanted a toy. He wanted a top. He wanted to go downstairs. She ignored it all. Both parties to this fight were MAD!

And, at about this point, my husband, who had gone back into his office to do some extra work, came home and witnessed the tears, shouting and anger. I'll say it, he had quite a pious look on his face, as though psycho mom was, well...psycho.

The nerve of him.

He sent me to bed. Fine by me! The pious papa and his sleepless son can bond tonight while I sleep!!

However, as luck would have it, the time spent fighting and crying with psycho mom wore the little dude out. He got a drink and went right to sleep, making me look even more like a monster.

A couple nights ago, a similar night time scene unfolded, except both my husband and I were home. Since my husband had deemed me to be a hot head, he took on the responsibility of settling our son.

"Mamamommy, I want upstairs, please."

"Hi, buddy!" husband sang. "You get me tonight!"

(Insert a giggle from mom who is noting that dad is playing the role of "Fresh Meat" tonight)

"I want downstairs, please."

This was followed by, "Upstairs, please." "Vacuum please" "Vacuum all done, please." "Car" "I want water, please." "Computer, please." And, after a few successful bolts into the room of sleeping son #2, guess what happened??

Psycho dad made a very, very rare appearance!!

It happens! We are human! Luckily, in this household, our children don't have two psycho parents all at once. Parenting is a tough, tough job. We can't be expected to be perfect all the time.

Now, as to my pious husband...just because I have a blog and he doesn't...ahem...I guess it isn't so fair for me to say "I told you so", is it? I mean, that wouldn't be very nice, right? Um, even though I was OBVIOUSLY right...I'm sure he understands that he was clearly WRONG and therefore doesn't need for me to point that out to him. Right? Hm....yeah. Best to let sleeping dogs lie. :)