a letter to my little girl

To my dearest Catie Bug,

You're adorable. I love you. I'm tired. My hand smells like puke...your puke. I need you to just go to sleep nicely from now on. I know you can do it. You used to do it. Making yourself puke does not need to be part of the going to sleep nicely routine. It's not good. I'm pretty sure it's not normal.

I have plenty of laundry to do every day. The extra laundry you're supplying me with by puking on yourself, your pillow and your blankets is not necessary. Thanks for trying to keep me busy though. You're kind to think of me like that.

Remember when Daddy used to rock you to sleep? You'd lay on his shoulder with your little hands tucked under you. It was sweet. Remember when I used to rock you to sleep? I hummed songs about Jesus in your little ear. It was sweet. I think you can remember if you try really hard. It was just a few short months ago.

Remember how you'd fall asleep and then we'd lay you down in your crib? Remember how you'd roll over onto your tummy and tuck in your little knees? It was sweet. The sweetest part of it all was that you'd stay asleep. You'd even start snoring. Remember? Then we'd walk out of your room and you'd still be sleeping. You wouldn't dream of standing right up and crying like you do now. Just sleep, sleep, sleep.

How about you start doing that again? It was nice. I wasn't as tired as I am now. Well, that might not be totally true. I was probably just as tired back then. My hand just didn't smell like your puke.

Let's start today. We'll go back to the old way of going to bed. I'll help you remember. Rocking. Sometimes humming. Tucking hands. Sleeping. Crib. Still sleeping. Sometimes snoring. Still sleeping. See how crying and making yourself puke isn't part of the plan?

Thanks, Catie Bug. You're the best!

Love,

Mama