I wasn't quite so gracious

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I've mentioned before how Amber Dusik's blog, Parenting. Illustrated with Crappy Pictures, is sort of a window into my soul daily life. When I read her most recent post on the perils of falling asleep when one joins young children to play on the floor, I was simultaneously spraying coffee out of my nose laughing, and hanging my head in just a little bit of shame. Just the day before I was laying on the living room floor reading some newly acquired library books with Alyce, when the reality of that morning's 5:00 wake-up hit me hard. It was one of those tireds where nothing could get in the way of me passing out right then and there.

Nothing except Alyce, that is.

I closed my eyes and fell asleep for 47 seconds, and at first Alyce was all sweet, reading me a story and giving me bear to cuddle with. I applauded her efforts. And then I made my big mistake: I thought I could convince Alyce to steal away thirty minutes with me in bed upstairs (Shira was already sleeping, luck duck that she is). Come on, Alyce! We could snuggle in my big bed! You could read books!! Mama could rest!! It will be a fun game!!! I believe she truly had the best of intentions, but she's three, and in my tired stupor I acted as though she were a solid twenty years old. When she declared that it wasn't time to sleep, but time to play princess, I think I actually started crying. I'm a grown woman.

I actually tried to fight her on the details. No, Alyce, just let me rest of five minutes! Can't you just play in your room? Why are you trying to murder me? (I didn't actually say that last one, but we all know it's a valid question.) Dusick embraced the sweetness of her children, and most of all, she realized that she wasn't actually going to get rest. Me, not so much. Instead I was annoyed that my three-year-old couldn't appreciate my need for some sleep.

I've never claimed to be perfect. Sometimes I am quite the parenting fool. You and me, both. Right?

Right?