Life is strange. At least mine is. For example, tonight, from 6:50 p.m. to 7:50 p.m.
So -- at 6:45 p.m., we're still in the middle of our 6:30 p.m. broadcast. I'm watching our taped interview with Miss Arkansas as she gives us an example of her amazing ventriloquism and yodeling talent. Love her! She should've won....
At the same time, I'm writing and producing a big interview I have tomorrow (more details to come...)...
6:56 p.m. We get cues to say goodnight. All the anchors gather to say bye.
Drive home. Walk in the door & 4-year old is being disciplined for not following directions.
7:10 p.m. 2-year old wants her "makeup bag" (an old mesh bag with containers of empty lip gloss and what-not that girl is OBSESSED with).
7:11 p.m. Question whether she's really my daughter since, despite being on TV, I HATE wearing makeup.
She insists upon having more lip gloss and a confiscated lip-stick she snagged from my bag when I wasn't looking (I had taken both away). Not gettin' 'em back.
Another meltdown when 4-year old gets more items removed for not following instructions.
So now I have a house full of crying (and 2 loads of unfolded laundry, lunches to make for tomorrow, kids to get to sleep)...
...all this, 20 minutes after saying goodnight live on TV!
OK, get peeps calm is priority number one. Teeth brushed. Potty. Pull-up. Bed for 2-year old.
"Mommy, can I sleep with my makeup bag?" she asks.
"Uhhhhhh..... (thinking quickly that I can't handle another meltdown --which will happen if I say no-- but don't want any empty-containers-that-still-have-makeup-residue all over her bed) yes, but you absolutely one-hundred-percent can't open it or the night-night gremlins will come take it in the middle of the night," I responded. (Really!? Night-night gremlins?!)
Her eyes got really, really big and her jaw dropped.
"Night-night gremlins, mommy?" She almost seemed scared. Geez, I didn't mean to scare the poor girl.
"Yes," I responded. "Night-night gremlins. They're not bad. They just check to make sure big girls don't open their makeup bags in the night."
"OK!" she said.
7:45 p.m. Laying in the dark with star-shaped night lights all over the ceiling. Quiet. Until...
"Mommy, I wanna open my makeup bag," she practically yelled.
"But you don't want the gremlins to come, do you?" I asked.
"No. So I will open it in the morning, and they will not come?" she affirmed.
"Yes, come get me, and we will open it together, and the gremlins will stay away," I lied.
"Hummmmm," she purred happily.
7:50 p.m. Asleep. Closed makeup bag cuddled by her side. Weird gremlin hour over!