Insomnia and Negotiating with a Terrorist (I Mean 4 Year Old)

It is a nice, snowy morning. I don't mind it, especially since we don't have to go anywhere today! Yay! Oh, except for karate later. I forgot about that. Austin's class was cancelled this morning so it's fun to be home on a day we would usually be gone. Tuesday is also usually grocery shopping day, which I really detest. I'll have to see if we can limp along with what we have for another week.

The only problem with a snowy morning is that our internet has been out. When it rains hard or snows hard, for some reason, the internet doesn't work. Or it's really spotty, which is almost more annoying.

The good thing about no internet is that I get a lot more done. I need to put myself on a schedule. Maybe I'll think about that today while our internet is out. I'll post this when I can get it up and running for a second.

Last night was not a fun night. Austin wouldn't go to bed and he wouldn't use the bathroom either. He said he was too tired. He finally fell asleep in MY bed so I made a nice, cozy little nest for him on the floor and put him in it. (He's getting REALLY big!)

At exactly 3:09 a.m. Austin crawled back into bed with me. Ok, whatever, I was tired. And he was warm and cuddly.

Then I remembered. He didn't ever use the bathroom. That meant he might very well go to the bathroom in MY bed. All of a sudden, I was wide awake. I tried to wake him up, but he was out.

I basically stayed awake the rest of the night, just waiting for something to happen. I wanted to be ready to move him quickly, if necessary. I'm not sure why it didn't dawn on me to just move him back to the floor. I guess I don't think so well when I'm tired. Come to think of it, I don't think so well when I'm fully rested.

Well, it would have been fine. He woke up at about 6:45 and ran downstairs (presumably to use the bathroom). Another night, shot to heck! Where is that Fairy Godmother when I need her?

So this morning Austin was out of control. More than usual. He kept jumping around with his light saber and thumping it on the wall. I kept asking him politely not to do that.

Then the negotiations began.

"Austin, please don't hit the wall with your light saber."

"I want to hit the wall. It's fun."

"I don't care if it's fun. I don't want you to do it."

"Why not? It's fun."

"Because you will scratch up the walls and I don't want you to do it."

"But it's fun."

"I don't care if it's fun. If you scratch up the walls, I will have to repaint them."

"Well, you can repaint them."

"No, I don't want to repaint them if I don't have to. I don't like to paint."

"But it's fun." (Do you see a common theme here? I knew I needed to come up with something really good if we were going to end this conversation amicably.)

"Austin, if I have to use money to buy paint, we won't have any money to buy you any more toys."

"Ok, mom. I won't hit the walls any more."


Do you think terrorists play with toys?