Flashback

Last night, my two oldest were complete stinkers at bedtime. It was the end of a long day - they hadn't taken naps, they were tired, I needed some quiet, their dad was at a reunion party so I had no interference being run, the baby was hungry...you get the picture. So, when I went upstairs at 8pm, an hour after they should've been asleep, I threatened to take precious items if I had to come upstairs again. Usually, just the threat is enough.

Last night was not that night.

I let things go on for a while, because, honestly, I don't like to take their things away. It's not a warm, fuzzy feeling in my world. But by 9:15, a full two hours past bedtime, they were still going strong and I WAS NOT. So, I went upstairs, pulled them off the floor (they were hiding under one's comforter and screaming at each other at dog-level decibels) and took Blankie (those of you whose children have a Blankie understand the importance of the capitalization) from the youngest. She knew I was serious, got into bed and went to sleep.

Next up, the oldest. She doesn't have a particular precious. She has rotating preciouses and, truth be told, I didn't know which item it was yesterday. She has a kitty pillow she sleeps on every night, so I thought that was a safe bet. I took kitty pillow.

She said, "I can sleep without kitty pillow."

Flashback.

I have no idea how old I was. I don't even know what my sister and I were doing to get in trouble, but my mother had completely had it. We each got a spanking. A good, old-fashioned, over-the-knee spanking. (And I share this story not for the capital punishment angle, but mostly because my mother has the upper arm strength of a gnat, so don't think she was some 6'4 linebacker or something like that.) So, I got spanked first. I was properly apologetic for my misdoings.

Next up: baby sister.

She gets her spanking, stands up and says the stupidest thing you could EVER say to a mother so at her wits end she's resorted to spanking.

She said, while looking my mother dead in the eye, "That didn't hurt."

Well, let's just say, the next one, immediately following said statement, did hurt. And, apparently, baby sister learned a valuable lesson - when getting spanked, keep your mouth shut and nobody gets hurt.

It was the one and only time I remember getting spanked. I'm certain the only reason I remember it is because of my sister's ill-timed remark. Because, as she said, it didn't hurt.

Flash foward.

My 3-year old tells me she can sleep just fine without kitty pillow. I see red. I hear ocean waves in my ears. I take a deep breath, force myself not to scream. I start removing precious items from said 3-year old's bed at lightning speed. By the time I'm done, she's lucky she's still wearing pajamas. I look at her. She looks at me, mouth agape and eyes wide. I ask her if I should continue. She shakes her head and lies her head on her pillow. I say good night, shut off the light, close the door, walk downstairs, still slightly shaking, and drain my glass of wine. I watch tv for a little longer, put the baby to bed, get ready for bed myself. I go in to check on the older 2, shortly after 10pm. They are both blissfully asleep. I breathe a sigh of relief, praying tomorrow's bedtime will go more smoothly.

Then, I wimp out and return Blankie and kitty pillow to their rightful owners.