Bedtime Battles

Bedtime Battles
by Meredith Efken
Chapter One
From:
Thomas Huckleberry
<t.huckleberry@work.com>
To: Dulcie Huckleberry

<dulcie@nebweb.net>
Subject: Chance of a lifetime
Hey, sweetheart!
How would you like to go on an all-expense paid trip to Hawaii? All we would have to cover is your airline
ticket. Here's the deal — work wants to send me to a one-week computer programming conference in
Honolulu, and they said we could bring spouses. It's in a month. Wanna go?
Love ya,
Tom
From:
Dulcie Huckleberry <dulcie@nebweb.net>
To: SAHM I Am <sahmiam@loophole.com>

Subject: AIIEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I get to go to Hawaii!!!! With Tom!!! He has to go to a conference for work, but I can hang out on the
beach for a whole week!
But wait — that would require me to wear a SWIMSUIT! As in, letting total strangers see parts of me I
can hardly bear to look at in the privacy of my own bathroom. Do I even own a swimsuit? Omaha isn't
exactly a beach town, you know. UGH, shopping for a swimsuit does to my self-image what a tornado
does to a town. Not pretty!
I'd do a workout blitz, but apparently my gym membership has expired. Would have been nice for them
to tell me. I showed up one day just to check out a Pilates class, and they had the nerve to tell me I
hadn't darkened the door since May of 2003. Is it my fault I've been too busy?
Maybe I can find a suit that looks more like shorts and a tank top?
Aloha to you all!

Dulcie
From:
Rosalyn Ebberly <prov31woman@home.com>
Subject: Re: [SAHM I AM] AIIEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
My dear Stay-At-Home Moms,
I just had to comment on dear Dulcie's email. Dulcie, how can you even bear the thought of leaving your
babies for something so transient as a Hawaiian vacation? Trips will come and go, but each day with
your children is like a little snowflake — no two are alike, and they vanish with each new sunrise.
Cheerio!
Rosalyn Ebberly
SAHM I Am Loop Moderator
“She looks well to the ways of her household, and does not eat the bread of idleness.” — Proverbs 31:27
(NASB)
From:
Zelia Muzuwa <zeemuzu@vivacious.com>
To: Dulcie Huckleberry <dulcie@nebweb.net>

Subject: Hawaii
I wish Rosalyn would "vanish with the sunrise," don't you?
Seriously, so NOT fair, Dulcie-babe! Consider me officially jealous! I'm sitting here trying to convince
Tristan that my idea of painting wall-size murals in the kids’ bedrooms is a great way to decorate the
house. I want to do A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte and Starry Night, and he's
being a total stick-in-the-mud about it. He’s a CPA, you know, and so it’s always about money,
investments and the resale value of the house. Apparently, he isn’t convinced that people will consider
hand-painted murals by the yet-to-be-renowned artist Zelia Muzuwa a good selling point for the house.
Never mind that he doesn’t want to move until we have the house paid off — three trillion years from
now. Grrr…
From:
Connie Lawson <clmo5@home.com>

Dulcie, that's wonderful news! I wouldn't worry about the swimsuit — you should wear a cover-up,
anyway. Skin cancer's a killer, you know. And don't think that just because you're Latino, you can skip
the sunscreen.
What are you going to do with your kiddos? Just thrilled for you! Wish it was me!
Connie
SAHM I Am Loop Mom
From:

Never fear, I'm well aware of the dangers of skin cancer for us "women of color." :)
And the kids — we've got that all under control.
Dulcie
From:
To: Thomas Huckleberry <t.huckleberry@work.com>

Subject: KIDS!!!
Tom, WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO WITH THE KIDS???? The twins aren't sleeping more than five
hours a night, and McKenzie refuses to sleep in her own bed. She's been sleeping with me the whole
time you've been gone on this consulting gig.
It just figures — I probably won't get to go anywhere romantic and exotic like Hawaii until I'm so old,
wrinkled and sagging that I'd have to wear my bikini top around my stomach. Why didn't we wait another,
oh, 500 years or so before we had kids???
Dulcie
Chapter Two
From:
To: Zelia Muzuwa

<zeemuzu@vivacious.com>, The Millards
<jstcea4jesus@familymail.net>
Subject: Re: Hawaii
Good news! I talked to my parents, and they are willing to take the girls, IF McKenzie can be taught to
sleep in a bed of her own. For whatever reason, my parents don't want McKenzie even in their room at
night, much less in the bed. They act as if they needed privacy in case they have a "marital moment" or
something. Ewww!!!! Bad visual! *shudder*
But I got this book — Teach Your Child to Sleep Alone in 18 Days. It has a full schedule and checklists,
and everything. I'm sure it will work out great. After all, it says it has helped over twenty-five thousand
children learn to sleep in their own beds since its first publication. My child can't possibly be worse than
twenty-five thousand other kids, right?
We're starting tonight. I'll let you know what happens in the morning.
Dulcie
From:
The Millards <jstcea4jesus@familymail.net>
To: Zelia Muzuwa <zeemuzu@vivacious.com>

Subject: Re: Hawaii
She's optimistic, isn't she? Think it'll work?
Jocelyn
From:
To: The Millards <jstcea4jesus@familymail.net>

Subject: Re: Hawaii
Are you kidding? Poor Dulcie. I predict a disaster in the making. Doesn't it just figure — so close to the
trip of a lifetime, only to be thwarted by a three-year-old.
Z
From:

Subject: [SAHM I AM] The Family Bed
Domestic Dears,
Dulcie's post about needing resources for helping her daughter sleep in her own bed brought to mind a
topic I've been meaning to address for a while. The Family Bed.
LET THE CHILDREN COME, Jesus said! I certainly would never dream of REJECTING my children by
refusing to welcome them into the warmth and security of sleeping next to me. Of course, your children
may not find you nearly as comforting, but we can't all be equally gifted.
Do you want your children to be scarred for life, beset with insecurity and lifelong baggage because you
sent them a message of rejection, of being unworthy to share every moment of every day with you???
What is more important — privacy or your children's mental health?
Be encouraged, dear moms,

Rosalyn Ebberly
SAHM I Am Moderator
(NASB)
From:

Subject: Re: [SAHM I AM] The Family Bed
Children scarred for life if they aren't spending every moment of every day with us? Rosalyn, dear, if that
is true for you, I'd be very worried about what your older children have learned about how your younger
children came into existence. Talk about scarred for life!
Jocelyn
From:

Jocelyn, dear, that was very inappropriate. We can't have these innocent young mothers corrupted by
talk about procreation.
Rosalyn
(NASB)
From:
To: Zelia Muzuwa <zeemuzu@vivacious.com>, Dulcie Huckleberry

<dulcie@nebweb.net>
Subject: FW: Re: [SAHM I AM] The Family Bed
THEN HOW DID THESE "INNOCENT YOUNG MOTHERS" BECOME MOTHERS IN THE FIRST
PLACE???
Jocelyn
From:
To: Dulcie Huckleberry <dulcie@nebweb.net>, The Millards

Subject: Decision
Since you two gals are my best buds on the SAHM I Am email loop, and since we seem to need a way
to vent about Rosalyn’s insanity on the loop, I'm hereby instituting the official "Green Eggs and Ham"
email alias. I set up my email program so that all I have to do is type in "Green Eggs" and it will
automatically send the message to both of you. If you do the same thing, then we can have our own little
SAHM subgroup. What say you?
From:
To: Zelia Muzuwa <zeemuzu@vivacious.com>, Dulcie Huckleberry

<dulcie@nebweb.net>
Subject: Re: Decision
Sounds good, Z! But who is the Green Egg and who is the Ham?
Jocelyn
P.S. Oh no! My mother-in-law just pulled up in my driveway! What in the world? She lives in Arizona —
what is she doing here? Gotta run…
From:
To: “Green Eggs and Ham”

Subject: Re: Decision
Obviously, Z is the Ham. Joc, you and I can be the Green Eggs. What is your mother-in-law doing there?
Okay, here's the plan for tonight — the book says that step one is Sleeping on a Pallet. All we have to do
is put out a blanket pallet on the floor beside my bed and get McKenzie to sleep there instead of on the
bed. That should be easy, right?
I’ll be dreaming of Hawaii tonight!

Dulcie
Chapter Three
From:
The Millards

Subject: Mother-in-law
Want to know why she showed up so unexpectedly yesterday? She had a DREAM! We were the
Asparagus Family, like from Veggie Tales, and Tyler was Jr. Asparagus. He fell into a vat of hollandaise
sauce and Mom woke up screaming that he was going to drown. Bizzare, huh? So she's convinced it
was a sign from above or something, and she has come to keep an eye on all of us. Just great.
I think it was more likely a divine sign that her cooking is the stuff of nightmares, but whatever. She's
here to stay for a few days.
So Dulcie, how did things go with McKenzie last night?
Later!
Jocelyn
From:

Subject: Re: Mother-in-law
Jocelyn, sorry to hear about your MIL. She obviously has deep-rooted issues about veggies.
And, McKenzie? Well…you know, it was only the first night. These things do take time. I'm sure it will go
better tonight. Not that it went badly by any means.
Dulcie
From:

Subject: Translation of Dulcie’s Note
What Dulcie really means, Jocelyn, is that McKenzie didn't exactly kill her. I bet you that after our wise
and gentle friend spent three hours coaxing and "patiently encouraging" her cherubic daughter to sleep
on the luxurious pallet prepared for her slumber — meaning she probably had to do everything except sit
on the child to make her stay put — she gave up out of sheer exhaustion and fell asleep, only to wake
up in the morning to find said cherubic daughter had abandoned the pallet and lay cuddled in her arms.
Right, Dulcie-babe? Come on, admit it, my friend. You know I'm almost always right.
From:

Subject: Re: Translation of Dulcie’s Note
WRONG! You are SO wrong, Ms. "I'm always right." Let me delineate your mistakes for you:
1. On doing everything except sitting on the child — WRONG. I DID sit on the child! She kicked me in
the crotch and I will probably never be able to sit down without pain again.
2. McKenzie did not abandon the pallet. She brought it with her and covered us both up with it. I
wondered why I was drenched in sweat when I woke up, between her and the two sleeping bags,
blanket and sheet on top of my regular comforter.
So there! Face it, you were wrong.
Dulcie
From:

Subject: Re: Translation of Dulcie’s Note
Well, I did think she might bring the whole pallet to bed with her, but I thought mentioning it would make
you sound too pathetic. Oops.
From:

Subject: What Next?
So what's next for the great Bed-dini?
From:

Subject: Re: What’s Next?
What's next? I'm going to fly to Baltimore and short-sheet all Z's beds… :)
Seriously, tonight is the Great Bait and Switch. I'll wait until she falls asleep in my bed and then simply
scoop her up and carry her to her own room. Should be a piece of cake.
Except I'm not letting myself even think about things like cake, anymore. Or food in general. I still have to
go shopping for a swimsuit that won't make me look like a stuffed sausage. Oops — food metaphor.
Bad, Dulcie. :(
I'll be sure to tell you how the Bait and Switch goes. Wish me luck!
Dulcie
Chapter Four
From:
The Millards

Subject: [SAHM I AM] Mother-in-Law
My MIL is driving me nuts! She's on a mission to protect us from nameless Asparagus Peril! She's been
calling security-system providers all day long, and when I said I was going to take Tyler to soccer
practice, she clutched him to her and said, "NO! It's not safe!"
From somewhere deep inside the cocoon that had become my MIL's embrace, I heard my son's voice.
"Grandma, it's not safe to be smothered, either!"
Jocelyn
From:

Subject: Painting murals
My DH Tristan has NO creative vision! All I want is to paint two wall murals in my kids' rooms. Fine art!
Cultural exposure at a young age. And what does he care about? RESALE VALUE of the house! Are we
planning to move? No! So what is his problem???
Z
From:

Subject: Hey, you two!
Cheerful today, aren't you? Well, let me pull up a chair and pour myself a glass of "whine" with you.
It turns out that McKenzie is being a bit more of a challenge than I had expected. Last night's Bait and
Switch wasn't exactly as successful as I'd hoped.
I stayed up late, waiting for her to fall asleep. I crept up the stairs. Peeked into the room. Listened to her
steady breathing.
I tiptoed to the bed, cringing at every creak of the floor, but she didn't even twitch. I stared down at her,
looking so sweet and peaceful. And I thought to myself…
WHY CAN'T THEY ALWAYS BE ASLEEP????
Anyway, I held my breath. Bent over so slowly. Slipped one hand under her head, and one arm under
her knees. No response.
So I braced myself to lift her gently from the bed. As soon as her head left the pillow, she popped open
both eyes, and wrinkled her little nose. Staring at me with suspicion, she asked, perfectly awake,
"Whatcha doing, Mommy?"
ARGGGGHHHHH!!!!!
Dulcie
From:

Subject: Re: Hey, you two!
Dulcie, darling, I won't say, "I told you so" because I'm a good friend who loves you. So even though I
did tell you so, I won't remind you of that, out of mercy for you. So I'm not saying "I told you so" because
I'm sure you remember I did.
Hugs,
Z (Your sweet, cuddly Ham)
From:
Subject: Re: Hey, you two!
Yeah. Thanks loads, Z. See if I send you even so much as a pineapple from Hawaii. :P
I'll have you know, tonight is going to be a whole new approach. I have sitting here next to me a
headband with furry brown bear ears attached to it, and a curly yellow paper wig. We are going to play
"Goldilocks and the Perfect Bed" tonight. McKenzie gets to be Goldilocks, of course, and the point is to
show her that her bed is the Perfect Bed. The book says this is a powerful role-playing game and often is
the turning point in the sleeping-alone process.
Dulcie
From:

Subject: Goldilocks?
Dulcie, babe, are you sure this book has been successful with twenty-five thousand kids? Maybe you'd
be better off suing them for false advertising and then hiring a nanny to stay with McKenzie.
From:

Subject: Re: Goldilocks?
Just you wait. I was in theater in college. In fact, I played the part of the cow in Charlotte's Web. My
"Moooooo" was a showstopper. Oh, wait, no, what stopped the show was when I stepped on my tail mid-
moo and fell over backward into the pail of water Lurvy was supposed to throw in Mr. Zuckerman's face.
But I digress. I'm sure my experience playing a cow will be vastly helpful in role-playing the three bears.
Cows and bears are very similar — four legs, fur, tails, etc.
Okay, maybe I'm a little nervous. But it's just pre-role-play jitters, I'm sure. It will go great.
Dulcie
Chapter Five
From:
The Millards

Subject: [SAHM I AM] Sleepwalking
Is this dangerous?
Jocelyn
From:
Zelia Muzuwa
<zeemuzu@vivacious.com>

Subject: Re: [SAHM I AM] Sleepwalking
Of course not! I've been doing it for years — ever since my kids were born. In fact, most of my sleep is
done walking, or while cleaning the house or driving the kids to activities…or while listening to my
husband talk. When else would I find time for it?
Multitasking: It's a beautiful thing. Which kiddo is doing the sleepwalking, Jocelyn?
Ciao!
Z
From:

It's not my children — It's my MIL!!! I'm serious — my nearly-sixty-year-old mother-in-law came
downstairs last night and told Shane and I that "the mice in the crib were being too noisy!"
I was like, "Huh???" What mice? What crib? She got very upset and insisted there were mice in the crib
that were being too noisy.
In the corner of my eye I could see Shane's newspaper, like a hot-air balloon, rise slowly until it stopped
in front of his face and began to tremble like a leaf on a tree. I think I heard some snorting noises from
behind said newspaper.
So, struggling to keep a straight face, while my husband abandoned me to deal with his clearly irrational
mother, I explained to her that there were no mice in the crib. Only baby Audra. She proceeded to
STAMP her foot and say, "The mice are making a noise like this!" And then she wrinkled up her face and
made the funniest squeaking noises. Even her nose wiggled. What I wouldn't have given to have had my
video camera.
Then, just as I was wondering how to get her to go back to bed, it was like a mist cleared, and she
looked at me and said, "Why aren't you in bed, Jocelyn?"
I stood there gaping at her until she shrugged, turned around, and went back to bed.
Shane burst out laughing as soon as she was gone. He could hardly breathe! I was a little freaked out,
but Shane said, "She's done that for years. Don't worry about it. Sounds like it was Audra's fussing that
triggered it."
"YEARS?" I screeched. "We've been married for ten years and you never told me your mother was a
SLEEPWALKER! That's weird!"
He snickered some more and said, "Well, usually, kids outgrow it, but she never did. It used to be a
regular source of amusement when we were growing up. She never hurts herself."
"You never told me!"
"Yeah I did."
So, of course, we ended up in the "Did not, did too" argument, like two five-year-olds. But don't you think
I'd remember something as weird as that about my MIL?
Jocelyn, who is tired and would like to LIE DOWN and take a nap.
From:

Joc,
Your MIL is like Shakespeare’s Lady Macbeth! Rock on, Mrs. Millard! Or, should I say, “Walk” on? :)
“I have seen her rise from her bed, throw her night-gown upon her, unlock her closet, take forth paper,
fold it, write upon’t, read it, afterwards seal it, and again return to bed; yet all this while in a most fast
sleep.” (Macbeth, Act 5, Scene 1)
Z
From:

Subject: [SAHM I AM] LOOP MODERATOR NOTICE
Sonambulant SAHMs,
Please remember this is a loop focused on mothering, therefore the various extraneous comments about
sleepwalking are in direct violation of that focus. Please stay ON TOPIC!
Blessings,
Rosalyn Ebberly
(NASB)
From:

Subject: Goldilocks
I wish my daughter would sleepwalk — right out of my bedroom!
You want to hear how the “Goldilocks and the Perfect Bed” went? Here you go…
As soon as we got to the part about MY side of the bed being "too soft" and Daddy's side of the bed
being "too hard," she froze, a look of sudden comprehension coming over her face. Then her little eyes
narrowed, and she put her hand on her hip.
"Mommy," she said, "You're sneaky." Then she crawled onto my "too-soft" bed and said, "This bed JUST
RIGHT!"
That little whimpering sound you just heard was not your dog. It was me. :(
Dulcie
P.S. WHY IS THERE WATER DRIPPING FROM THE CEILING? The only thing above here is…
McKenzie's bedroom. Oh dear…
Chapter Six
From:
Zelia Muzuwa

Subject: [SAHM I AM] Good news, bad news
Good News: Tristan finally decided he's okay with the idea of me painting a mural in the kids'
bedrooms!!!
Bad News: Seamus wants the Rescue Heroes on his wall, Griffith wants BARNEY! And Cosette? She
said she wanted the ballerinas.
I'm thinking she means Degas…. Finally, at least one of my children shows some cultural aptitude. But
NOOOOO — she didn't mean Degas. She meant the little obnoxious ballerina mouse from England
that's all the rage right now with girls her age. UGH!
Where did I go wrong???
From:

Subject: Re: [SAHM I AM] Good news, bad news
Oh, Zelia, I'm so sorry to hear about your children's disappointing reaction to that fabulous idea of
painting murals in their rooms. I guess I'm just very blessed — my children were able to identify
paintings and artists from their little art flashcards when they were still practically babies! Suzannah's
first word was "da Vinci!" Isn't that adorable?
You have to remember, the key is exposure. Sure, if you let your children watch those poor quality,
mass-marketed television cartoons, their tastes will be less refined than, say, MY children. Obviously,
there has been some damage done. But hopefully if you make changes now, you can still salvage at
least some of their cultural awareness and sensitivity.
I would recommend an immediate remedial program of art appreciation cards, a membership to your
local art museum, and professionally taught art classes if at all possible.
It is vitally important to your child's development to have an understanding of the arts. They will be
smarter and more confident. Don't despair, dear Zelia. Just turn off that TV!
With love,
Rosalyn
(NASB)
From:

Subject: Rosalyn
I'd like to find a remote and press her MUTE button!!!
From:

Subject: Re: Rosalyn
Poor Z! But don't be too hard on dear Rossie. You know she suffers from SAD, right? That's Seasonally
AGGRAVATING Disorder, in case you were getting it confused with another disorder. She's
aggravating in spring, summer, fall and winter. But this summer seems to be worse than normal.
Well, my MIL stayed horizontal the entire night last night. She refused to talk about the "mice in the crib"
incident. But she did mention that maybe she'd be going on home in a few days since it seems like we're
all okay.
How did someone so very strange give birth to my very normal husband?
Jocelyn
P.S. Dulcie, what happened with the water dripping?
From:
Thomas Huckleberry <t.huckleberry@work.com>

Subject: How’s It Going?
Hey, sweetie,
How are things going with McKenzie? Any progress? I'm sorry you're having to handle this all by
yourself. I miss you. Wish I could have come home this weekend.
Love,
Tom
From:

Subject: Re: How’s It Going?
Things are just fine here. I think I'm making progress with McKenzie. Everything is Under Control. You
just keep thinking about Hawaii. I can hardly wait!
Love and smooches and hugs and cuddles,

Dulcie
From:

Subject: Oh NO!!!
Girls, what am I going to do??? Our contractor just came to look at the water damage on the house.
THREE HUNDRED DOLLARS!!!
Here's what happened… Apparently, McKenzie decided to put her bed to a much better (in her mind)
use. She tried to make it a FLOWER bed, complete with artificial flowers stuck between the wall and the
mattress. Like the Mary Quite Contrary that she is, she had them all in a row, and decided…
THEY NEEDED TO BE WATERED!!!
By the time I walked in, her entire floor was wet. It's a wood floor, too. With a couple of knot-sized holes
in it from where they ran electrical wires and pipes years ago. The holes made great drains to the
computer room downstairs, thus the water damage.
She just stood there looking innocent, a plastic washbasin in her hands still sloshing with the telltale
water. I was so mad I yelled at her. "Why would you use REAL water on FAKE flowers? Why not fake
water???"
She stuck out her bottom lip. "Because I was all out of fake water, Mommy. And they needed a drink."
Someone just please shoot me now.
Dulcie
P.S. I'm heading out to go shopping. The book says to let McKenzie pick out a Super-Special pillow and
blanket for her very own Super-Special bed. At first I didn't see why I should buy her any presents when
she has cost me my entire grocery bill for a week. But then I thought of Hawaii, and decided that bribery
is entirely too underrated.
From:

Subject: What did I do to deserve this???
We just got home from shopping. I am now $500 poorer. And likely to have a much shorter life span
once my husband finds out.
Dulcie
Chapter Seven
From:
Zelia Muzuwa
To: Dulcie Huckleberry

<dulcie@nebweb.net>
Subject: Re: What did I do to deserve this???
Dulcie-babe,
What sort of outrageous pillow and blanket did you get for $500??? It had at least better be diamond
encrusted and be able to wash, dry and fold itself, and put itself in the closet.
From:

Subject: Shopping with Children
I really hate shopping with children.
When we got to Home Sweet Home to buy McKenzie her Super-Special pillow and blanket, I discovered
that my double stroller has a broken wheel, so I was stuck using two carts — one for each twin in their
baby carriers, with McKenzie sitting in the front of one cart.
So I'm trudging down the aisles, dragging one cart behind me and trying to steer the second with one
hand. The other shoppers give me dirty looks because my entourage takes up all the space. Then, I cut
a corner a little too close and end up knocking over a display of brightly colored plastic pitchers and
water glasses. One of the pitchers conks an elderly woman on the head, and the rest scatter in a brilliant
rainbow jumble down the aisle and across the Persian rugs.
I try to help pick up the mess, but a store clerk waves me off, practically begging me to take myself and
my two carts of trouble out of the area. And we haven't even made it to the bedding yet!
At last, we reach the bedding. But McKenzie doesn't want a Super-Special pillow and blanket. She
wants to get down and run around under the shower curtains across the way. I choose a really cute
Strawberry Shortcake pillow, and hand it to her. "Look, McKenzie, don't you want this for your very own
bed?" I try to make my voice chipper and full of adventure, as if sleeping in one's own bed is better than
an entire month's worth of Sesame Street.
She grabs Strawberry out of my hands and bops Aidan over the head with it, waking her from a nap.
Aidan starts to cry, which wakes up Haley, who starts to cry, too. I take the pillow back and scold
McKenzie who then joins her sisters in a loud wail.
"So I take it you don't like the Strawberry Shortcake pillow," I say, trying to keep my voice soothing and
cheerful. What I'd really like to do is throw the pillow on the floor and jump on it, like they do in the
cartoons, until the stuffing flies. But I am the mature mother who remains unruffled, even in the face of
one howling preschooler and two wailing six-month-olds. I resist the urge to join them, put the pillow in
the cart and grab the matching bedspread.
Then I make my way back to the front of the store, navigating the two carts, trying not to knock over
anything breakable, and stopping every so often to pick up the pillow McKenzie keeps throwing out of
the cart. The whole way I keep my head down and avoid looking anyone in the eyes, so as not to have
to see either their disgust or pity.
We're nearing the checkout counter, and I can see it beckoning like home plate. But I was so focused on
reaching it that I didn't see The Platter.
This is not an ordinary platter. Oh no. It's ornately cut crystal, rising like a divine being from a silver
pedestal around which are arrayed worshipful crystal stemware.
Can we say "Mommy's Nightmare?"
As I said, I didn't see it until it was even with our cart. So I was unable to stop McKenzie from flinging the
pillow out of the cart…straight into the crystal cathedral.
In my mind, it's like slow motion. The pillow hurtles toward the platter, just brushing one of the stemware
devotees. Like a Weeble, it wobbles for a second, but does not fall down.
But I don't have time to even breathe in relief. The pillow strikes the platter, which disappears backward
off the pedestal. The stemware scatters with the demise of their object of worship.
I lunge to catch the platter, and end up knocking it about three feet off its intended trajectory. I hear
myself scream, just as the entire display crashes in a rain shower of glittering shards across the tile floor.
There is silence for a moment. The floor looks like my driveway after a hailstorm. I don't dare move. I
peek at the kids, who are staring at me in abject awe. They don't appear to be hurt.
I hear a tiny McKenzie voice. "Cool, Mommy! Do it 'gain?"
I used to dream of owning crystal like that. Dreams come true, sometimes, to the tune of $500.
Congratulations, Dulcie, you are now the proud owner of a box of very high-quality crystal shards. They'll
make lovely confetti for a dinner party if I survive motherhood long enough to host one.
Did I mention I HATE shopping with children?
Dulcie
From:

Subject: Re: [SAHM I AM] Shopping with Children
Oh, my poor dear Dulcie! What a horrible experience! I'm so sorry that happened to you. I can't undo
what happened, but I have taken the liberty of posting some encouragement for you and the other moms
on the loop. Check it out.
Blessings,
Rosalyn
(NASB)
From:
To: Rosalyn Ebberly <prov31woman@home.com>

Wow, thanks, Rosalyn. That's really sweet of you. Not what I expected at all. I'll go check out the loop
right now.
Dulcie
From:
Graceful Gals,
I wanted to take a moment and respond to Dulcie's unfortunate accident. There's a lesson for all of you
to learn from it — you must TRAIN your children how to behave in stores.
That's right! There's no reason to have children who knock over expensive crystal displays, or who fight
and whine. I've attached a suggestion list for ways to improve your child's shopping behaviors. Please
note particularly #23 about never letting the child hold the merchandise, and #47 about maintaining a
safety buffer of nineteen inches between the cart and the nearest shopping obstacle.
Trust me, these tips work. MY children certainly never cause problems on shopping trips. The store
clerks regularly offer them suckers (which they always forego in favor of organic rice cakes spread with
organic, fat-free, unsalted cashew butter once we get home) and invite us back.
Rosalyn
(NASB)
From:

Subject: GRRRRR!!!
Cashew butter? CASHEW BUTTER??? I'll show HER cashew butter — with a handful of crystal shards
thrown in just for free!
And I thought she was being nice to me. My gullibility really knows no bounds.
As for The Moment of Truth… I get the blanket and pillow out of the bag and call McKenzie. She is now
ecstatic about them and hugs them, pronouncing them her "favewit." So the next step is to have her
place them on her bed, to establish her ownership of her bed. I take her by the hand, lead her upstairs,
chattering happily about how she gets to put them on HER bed. At the top of the stairs, she pulls free of
my hand with an excited squeal. I'm thinking she will run to her room, unable to wait a second longer to
have her Super-Special things on her own bed. But she turns the opposite way, and heads for MY room,
where she knocks my pillow off my bed, and puts her new pillow in its place. Then she grins up at me.
"Dis plillow for you, Mommy." Before I can protest, she grabs my pillow, and curls up in Tom's place.
I was too tired to argue. And besides, the book says not to push the issue yet. The Strawberry Shortcake
pillow was surprisingly comfortable, actually.
Uh-oh, McKenzie is crying. She sounds frustrated, which means a toy probably isn't working for her. I
hear the word "Stwaberry Shor-cake"…and "plilow"…and…
TOILET?????
Gotta go! D
Chapter Eight
From:
Connie Lawson <clmo5@home.com>

Hi Loopers!
I’m sorry I wasn’t able to respond to Rosalyn’s post about family beds earlier. We’re getting ready to go
on our summer vacation. But I just want to point out that family beds aren’t at all practical when you have
FIVE children! Can you imagine the chaos if all seven of us tried to fit in our bed at once?
But I have to ask, Rosalyn, since when do you and Chad do a family bed? I’ve been over at your house
a million times and all your kids sleep in their own rooms, just like mine do. So is this a new thing or
what?
Connie Lawson
SAHM I Am Loop Mom
From:
To: Connie Lawson <clmo5@home.com>

Connie, dear,
I know you meant well, but please don’t discuss my personal sleeping arrangements on the loop. Can’t
you tell when I’m simply trying to make a point with these ladies and broaden their minds to other
perspectives? It’s part of my job as loop moderator!
Rosalyn
(NASB)
From:

My Lovely Loopers,
Connie is quite right — my children almost always choose to sleep in their own beds. But that’s not the
point. The point is that we are willing to have a family bed. However, we are blessed with children who
are independent and confident, and don’t feel the need to do something as childish as sleeping with their
parents. If you go back and reread my original posts about family beds, you’ll see that this is what I was
actually saying, and Connie simply has misunderstood again.
Blessings,
Rosalyn Ebberly
SAHM I AM Loop Moderator
(NASB)
From:

Subject: When it rains, it pours…
Remember the Stwaberry Shor-cake Plilow and the toilet last night? *sigh* McKenzie must really hate
that pillow. She tried to flush it down the toilet! She had it shoved about halfway down and was in the
process of using those big, fat toddler crayons to stuff it down even farther when I caught up with her.
“McKenzie!” I cried. She glanced up from her work in the toilet, and I tell you, she had a snarl on her
face. She jammed harder with the crayons, and then, before I could stop her, she flushed the toilet. I
heard a big GLUG, a pop and a gurgle. Then, like some sort of alien blob, the water rose in the toilet and
over the top. Onto the floor. With little flecks of crayon floating in it.
I stared at McKenzie, wondering what on earth I could safely do to her to express my displeasure. She
stared back at me, defiant, yet scared, as if she were wondering the same thing. All the stuff that flashed
through my mind would be likely to result in jail time, so I settled for grabbing the crayons from her hand,
pointing at the door, and watching her slink out of the room. But when she stopped a moment to patter
around in a puddle, I about lost it. “GO!” I shouted, and she ran, leaving a trail of wet footprints on the
wood floor.
Then I had to call a plumber. He charged me $300!!! This means that so far, in three days, my daughter
has cost us over a thousand dollars. THREE DAYS! So much for a cheap trip to Hawaii! At this rate,
we’ll have to take out a second mortgage on the house just to get to the airport. And how am I going to
tell Tom? He’ll be livid.
Dulcie
From:

Subject: Re: When it rains, it pours…
Pray for me, girls — the phone just rang. It’s Tom.
Dulcie
Chapter Nine
From:

Subject: Tom’s reaction
Hey Ms. Green Egg #2 and Ms. Ham,
Okay, so Tom called last night. He said he’d gotten a call from a PLUMBER, and could I please explain
what is going on? (I couldn’t figure out why they called him until I remembered that I’d given them his cell
phone number, if they couldn’t reach me. Nothing like shooting my own foot.…)
So I choked out a convoluted explanation about the flushed pillow. He said, “What pillow?”
So I choked out another explanation about the origins of the Super-Special pillow, which is now Super-
Soaked. By the time I got to the part about The Crystal Platter, I could hear a raspy gasp on the other
end of the line.
And silence.
“And how much was the…” he trailed off, like he couldn’t even bring himself to say it.
“About five-hundred dollars,” I whispered.

I heard a wheezing groan. Then, “And another three-hundred for the plumber, right?”
“Um, yeah. But —”
“Eight hundred dollars.” His voice was just a murmur
“Well, actually…”
“What?”
I hadn’t told him about the Real Water for Fake Flowers incident yet. When I finished telling him, there
was a ten-second pause — I could almost hear him counting to ten — but it didn’t help him control his
temper. I’m not sure exactly what he said because he started yelling so loud, I had to move the phone
about two feet from my ear. I could still hear the rumbling from the phone, but I couldn’t make out all the
words. But the phrases, “Eleven hundred stinking dollars!” and “That stupid, idiotic book!” seemed to
figure largely in the outburst.
Finally, the eruption subsided. I gingerly put the phone back to my ear. “Honey?”
“What.” Still rumbly.
“It’s not the book’s fault.…”
Wrong thing to say. There was an aftershock that lasted another three minutes. I knew I’d need to tread
more carefully. He at last suggested we take it out of savings, reminding me it meant we’d have very
little spending money for Hawaii.
“I’m sorry, honey. I didn’t mean for things to get so crazy.” This went over much better.
“It’s okay, Dulcie. I’m sorry for yelling. It just came as a shock. Try to be more careful, please?”
So everything is okay now. Sort of. Thanks for praying.
Dulcie
From:

Subject: Re: Tom’s reaction
That’s so rough, Dulcie-babe. I’m sorry! Hey, Tristan had a similar “eruption” when I told him how much it
cost to buy the paints for the wall murals. Only, since he is from Zimbabwe and has a voice like James
Earl Jones, half his rant was in Zimbabwean and the other half made me want to swoon and kiss him.
(Even when he’s mad, that English accent and deep voice is just SO hot!)
Here’s hoping your kiddo doesn’t destroy anything else on her way to her own bed.
Love ya!
Z
From:

Poor Dulcie! I wish I could help you out. At least you have the money in savings. We’d have had to take
out a loan. By the way, why am I Green Egg number TWO? I’m older than you. :)
Hugs,
Jocelyn
From:

Jocelyn, you’re number TWO for that very reason — you’re older, so chronologically, your age will
always come after mine. :) (I always like to think of logic as being a convenient way to rationalize, don’t
you?)
And Z, lucky you. When Tom yells, his voice gets all high-pitched and strangled sounding. Makes me
want to clamp my hands over my ears and howl like a dog, not kiss him.
I don’t know what to do…maybe Rosalyn is right. Maybe the kids just aren’t old enough to be left with
grandparents. Maybe I should just give up the whole Hawaii idea. But I just know that I won’t ever have
this sort of a chance again.
I feel so guilty. A good mom would never want to leave her kids and go on a dream vacation. Or end up
causing a thousand dollars of damage in the attempt. Right?
Dulcie
Chapter Ten
From:
The Millards
To: Rosalyn Ebberly

<prov31woman@home.com>
Subject: Dulcie
Hi Rosalyn,
Could you do a favor for me? Please lay off Dulcie and the family bed thing. You’re making her feel
guilty, and feel like she shouldn’t go to Hawaii. She’s really down about it.
Thanks,
Jocelyn
From:

Subject: Re: Dulcie
Jocelyn, darling,
I appreciate your concern for Dulcie. But perhaps what she is feeling is simply God telling her that I’m
right. And once she stops fighting me, and God — of course, she’ll feel much better about things.
Rosalyn
(NASB)
From:

Subject: Re: Dulcie
Rosalyn,
Do I need to remind you what the Bible says about arrogance and pride?
Jocelyn
From:

Subject: Re: Dulcie
No, but you may need to remind yourself what it says about not taking up an offense for another person.
If Dulcie has a problem with me, let her talk to me about it. Oh, you also might check what it says about
respecting those in authority, too, since I am the moderator of this loop.
Rosalyn
(NASB)
From:

Subject: Hear me SCREAM?
SOME PEOPLE SHOULD HAVE THEIR TONGUES HOT-GLUED TO THE ROOF OF THEIR MOUTHS
TO SHUT THEM UP.
SOME PEOPLE SHOULD HAVE HONEY POURED DOWN THEIR THROATS TO SWEETEN THEM
UP.
SOME PEOPLE SHOULD BE MADE TO TEST MOSQUITO REPELLENT THAT DOESN’T WORK,
JUST BECAUSE IT WOULD RESULT IN THOUSANDS OF BITES THAT WOULD BE AS IRRITATING
AS THEY ARE!
Listen to me, Dulcie. You need to go on that vacation to Hawaii and have a wonderful time, if for no other
reason than to give Rosalyn a big, huge dose of the “I told you so’s.” PLEASE!
Jocelyn
From:

Subject: Please don’t give up!
Hi, sweetheart,
I had a few minutes left on my lunch break and wanted to write to you. Please don’t give up on the
Hawaii trip! I really want you to go with me. I wish I could help with the kids more. I know it’s hard.
I’m really not that mad about the repair money. It’s just the way things go, I guess. But I am excited to
see you in that new swimsuit you said you were going to buy. REALLY excited! *wink*
Besides, if you don’t go with me, then I’ll have to room with my co-worker Steve. And his wife told me at
a company picnic last week that he snores like a band saw.
So my options are Snoring Co-worker or Wife in Swimsuit. No contest there. Please try to make the trip
work. :)
Love,
Tom
From:

Subject: Re: Please don’t give up!
Hi darling,
Poor thing. I should make you room with Snoring Steve. Then you’d know how I feel when you’re home!
My options are Snoring Husband (who looks pretty great in swimming trunks) or Child in Bed (and no
beach or pineapples.) No contest there, either.
Okay, I’ll keep on keeping on. The snoring reminded me that tonight is supposed to be the Exhaustion
Method. If McKenzie won’t leave my room, then I have to keep her awake until she’s so tired, she’ll
agree to go to her own room.
That should work.
Love you,
Dulcie
Chapter Eleven
From:
To: Thomas Huckleberry

<t.huckleberry@work.com>
Subject: Exhaustion Method for Getting Child to
Sleep in Own Bed
That did not work.
Unless the point was to make ME so exhausted that I fell asleep, no longer concerned whether my child
was in my bed or on the roof or behind the stove. I wasn’t lucky enough for her to choose either of the
last two locations.
Now I’m off to the mom’s group at church. But don’t worry. I’m not discouraged, anymore. I can be just
as stubborn as McKenzie. Never let it be said that a three-year-old got the best of me!
Much love,
Dulcie
From:

Subject: Praying for you!
Dulcie, dear,
I just wanted you to know I’m praying for you right now. I know you are frustrated with McKenzie, and I’m
just asking the Lord to help you get over it and learn to view McKenzie as the blessing she is. I’m also
asking the Lord to help you accept the lessons He may be trying to teach you, about priorities and
responsibilities, and those sorts of things. I just know it will be a real blessing to you.
In sisterly love,
Rosalyn
(NASB)
From:

Subject: Re: Praying for you!
Hi, Rosalyn,
Thanks so much for your prayers. I’m sure they were sincere and heartfelt. I’m praying for you, too.
Really, really praying. Hard. We’re talking “storming the gates of heaven” on your behalf, my friend.
Asking God for His mercy and divine protection for you. Because you are really going to need it. Boy, are
you going to need it. By the truckloads. Trust me on this one.…
Dulcie
From:

Subject: What a day!
Hey gals,
So in addition to fending off predatory Rosalyn-prayers, I went to our mom’s group today. And the topic
was Companionship. That’s really great. But the verse they chose was Ecclesiastes 4:9-12 where verse
11 says, “…if two lie down together they keep warm, but how can one be warm alone?”
We were supposed to have a discussion about the verses at our tables. But I have to admit, I didn’t even
wait to hear what the questions were. I was so mad about McKenzie and Rosalyn that I just started
venting.
“I don’t CARE about keeping warm!” I said. “I’ll tell you about two lying down together! It’s a mess. A
disaster. You think ‘Sure, just for tonight it’ll be okay. Just this once.’ And before you know it, your bed
has developed a cancerous lump that appears to be completely inoperable.” My voice started rising
several decibel notches.
“I would LOVE to be sleeping alone! I don’t care if I’m cold. If I’m cold, I’ll get a blanket, thank you very
much. I’d get TEN blankets! Anything! Just as long as I could get THAT THING OUT OF MY BED!!!!!”
In the ensuing silence, I could feel the eyes of every mother in the room staring at me. My discussion
leader reached over and patted my hand. “Oh, sweetie,” she said, “Are things between you and Tom that
bad?”
I sputtered and gasped, trying to explain. “No! No, Tom and I are fine. Really.”
She just squeezed my hand. “It’s okay to admit it. We’re all here to support you. But you really should
probably be getting some counseling.”
“No!” I insisted. “It’s not Tom that I want out of my bed!”
Collective jaw-dropping gasp. I’d just made things a million times worse.
Somehow, while my face felt like it was on the receiving end of a blowtorch, I managed to convince them
that the person I wanted out of my bed was not Tom, nor some other adult. Just my daughter McKenzie.
Everyone seemed very relieved, though my discussion leader still looked a little suspicious.
Another mom at my table suggested sending her daughter, also three, over to spend the night. She
figured that a sleepover would break the ice and get McKenzie excited about her own room. I know she
was also thinking of a nice evening without her own child, but it seemed like a good suggestion for both
of us. And there were several other moms who also were in favor of it. So in just an hour or so, she
should be coming over.
That will be nice, I think. McKenzie loves to play with other kids. And this girl is really sweet and well
behaved. Unlike several of the other three-year-olds in the group. I bet they’ll have a great time playing.
And besides, why would two girls having a sleepover want anything to do with the mom (or the mom’s
bed?). This should work out great!
Dulcie
From:

Subject: Re: What a day!
”This should work out great!”
Now where have we heard THAT before? :)
From:

Subject: Help!
Oh my goodness, you guys! There’s been some sort of mistake. The mom brought her own daughter
over for the sleepover, ALONG WITH THREE OTHER GIRLS! What am I going to do? These are the
ones I was telling you about who are NOT well behaved. But I couldn’t turn them away. Their moms
would be so offended at me if I did, and that would make the mom’s group a rotten place to be.
But what on earth am I going to do with a sudden slumber party of five three-year-olds? This is a recipe
for disaster.…
Dulcie
From:

Subject: Re: Help!
I just LOVE to be right!
Told-You-So the Ham
Chapter Twelve
From:
The Millards

Subject: [SAHM I AM] What I’ve learned
Dear Sahmmies,
I learned a few things today:
1. If your MIL says she has a scary dream about you and wants to come move in for a
couple of weeks to make sure everything is okay, shut the door, change the locks and get
a restraining order if necessary, because otherwise she will ruin your life.
2. When said MIL tells you she smells smoke, give her a plastic bag. Tell her to put it over
her head and tie the opening around her neck so she won’t smell whatever she’s
smelling, anymore.
3. If MIL decides to call 911, and the firefighters arrive to find that what she smelled was just
a bug frying in the halogen lamp, be prepared for really grumpy firefighters.
4. After firefighters get done lecturing you and your MIL for needless 911 calling, be
prepared for MIL to tell you it’s all YOUR fault for not checking out where the smell was
coming from before she called 911.
On second thought, just save the plastic bag and use it yourself.
Jocelyn
From:

Subject: Re: [SAHM I AM] What I’ve learned
Hey, Jocelyn,
Send me that bag, my friend, because I’ve a mind to use it on Seamus. That six-year-old scamp just told
little brother Griffith that the paints I bought for the mural were finger paints! There is now finger painting
on the dining-room floor, down the hall, up the stairs, on the hall window, and — irony of ironies, on the
walls in both bedrooms. This all happened in the amount of time it took me to do my hair this morning.
Tristan is going to do his famous impression of a supernova for sure.
From:

Subject: The need for plastic bags
Now, Z, dear friend, don’t go getting greedy with the plastic bags. Save one for me. After the night I had,
I just might need it.
The impromptu slumber party was a disaster. There should be a law about how many three-year-olds
can congregate in any given place at once. The limit should be…one. More than that is definitely
criminal.
What am I supposed to do with five preschoolers on short notice? I thought maybe they could watch a
movie. So I found a dusty bag of microwave popcorn and popped it, and put on a DVD. But they weren’t
interested in the movie and had more fun throwing the popcorn around the room, yelling, “It’s snowing,
it’s snowing!”
Then there was a chorus of “I’m thirsty.” So I gave them all some apple juice. And I opened a bag of
sandwich cookies. The cookies have found their way into every crevice of this house! The floors are
gritty with crumbs, and the couch practically crunches when you sit on it. And after three spilled glasses
of juice (despite the no-spill lids), the house has a lovely fragrance of apples.
Two girls, in addition to McKenzie, are still in diapers, and they both managed to do some incredibly
smelly business. And another one wet her pants without telling me about it, so now the couch has a wet
spot as well as cookie crumbs.
They basically took over the whole house, leaving a trail of disaster from top to bottom. But I was still
hopeful that we would achieve the objective. So when bedtime came, I told them all to run upstairs. I
found them…
IN MY ROOM!!! McKenzie was telling them, “This is where I sleep.” And she showed them all how to
jump on my bed. I yelled at them to stop, and then… I must have been really tired or something,
because I got a little dizzy and started to see stars.
So I admit it. They won. I gave up, pulled out a sleeping bag, and retreated to the floor in defeat. A battle
of wits between five three-year-olds and me is just not a fair fight.
Ow! My muscles hurt. That floor is HARD. :(
Dulcie
From:

Subject: A surprise…
Hi sweetie,
I get to come home this weekend! I’m leaving as soon as work is done tomorrow, and I should be home
about 8:30 p.m. I know you’ve been working really hard with McKenzie, so I have a special surprise
planned for you. You’re going to love it!
All my love,
Tom
Chapter Thirteen
From:

Subject: Tom is coming home!
Hey everyone,
After a three-week absence, my DH is coming home! He emailed me last night to say he’s bringing
home a surprise for me. Well, it must have started already, because this morning, I got a dozen roses! I
could just faint! It’s been forever since he’s done anything this romantic for me!
I wonder what the surprise is?
Love,
Dulcie
From:

Subject: Re: [SAHM I AM] Tom is coming home!
Dear SAHMs,
We really should rejoice with Dulcie’s good news! It sounds like it might be a while before we’ll get a
chance to celebrate anything like that with her again.
I don’t even bother telling the whole loop about all the wonderful, romantic things Chad does for me, but
since the topic has come up, I’d love to share about what he did for me two weekends ago. He gave me
THREE dozen roses, one dozen for each child I’ve given him. And then, he had his parents watch the
kids overnight and took me to a B&B off of a lake. They had a rowboat, so we took it out on the lake and
watched the sunset together, while he rubbed my feet. That evening, he had strewn the bed with
chocolate kisses and rose petals.
Ahh, sweet memories.
Rosalyn
(NASB)
From:

Rosalyn, wasn’t that for your anniversary?
Dulcie
From:
Rosalyn Ebberly <<a href="#">prov31woman@home.com</a>>

Yes, it was! :)
Rosalyn
(NASB)
From:
I thought it was your anniversary. Congratulations.
Well, Tom is giving me a surprise for no reason at all. Just because he loves me. Isn’t it funny how a
just-because surprise is ever so much more romantic than an anniversary surprise? I guess it’s because
he’s not obligated to do it.
Dulcie
From:

Remind me, Dulcie, was it this past year or the one before when Tom forgot your anniversary?
Rosalyn
(NASB)
From:

Subject: Grrrr…
That’s what I get for trying to play one-upping with Rosalyn. Ick. I feel dirty. I need to take a shower.
Whoa! Tom just got home! He is looking GOOD, and he smells divine, and he comes bearing gifts of a
jazz CD, massage oil and chocolate cheesecake!!! I don’t think you’ll be hearing from this Green Egg the
rest of the evening. *huge grin*
He just went upstairs to put away his duffle bag. Hope he doesn’t wake up McKenzie. Uh-oh…I forgot
about McKenzie. And I told Tom we were making progress, too. Where are we going to do the massage-
oil-jazz-cheesecake thing? HER room? I don’t think so!
Now he’s calling for me. And he doesn’t sound happy. Better go.
Dulcie
Chapter Fourteen
From:
Zelia Muzuwa

Subject: [SAHM I AM] Romantic things our
husbands do
My husband finally stopped pouting about me having to buy new paint for my wall murals after my
children decided to finger paint the house with it. Considering how furious he was, the gesture was
romantic by comparison.
From:

Subject: Re: [SAHM I AM] Romantic things our husbands do
So how are you going to get the finger painting cleaned up?
From:

Subject: Re: [SAHM I AM] Romantic things our husbands do
I made Seamus help me clean most of it up before it had dried. The stuff on the walls I’ll just paint over.
Seamus got the job of using an old toothbrush to get the paint out of all the cracks and joints in the floor.
That took the starch out of him — for a whole fifteen minutes. *sigh*
Z
From:

Subject: Here’s what happened
Okay, so Tom called me upstairs last night. I guess McKenzie was asleep, but woke right up when he
came into our room. She was thrilled to see Daddy, but Daddy wasn’t so happy to see her. At least not in
his bed.
When I got upstairs, he was standing in our doorway, arms folded across his chest. “Why is she in our
bed?”
DUH! Where has he been the last two weeks??? Oh yeah, at work. “That’s a dumb question.”
“I thought you said you were making progress.”
I knew he would throw that in my face. “Well, I’m progressing through the book, at least.”
He sighed and shook his head. “I hate that book.”
“Don’t blame the book!”
“Well, it’s either blame the book, or blame you, Dulcie!”
Ouch. That hurt. “I’m trying my best.”
McKenzie wandered out at that point, looking a bit annoyed that we’d disturbed her beauty sleep. Tom
set her outside in the hall, and then pulled me into the room and shut the door. Then he scooted my
hope chest over until it was a couple of inches across the door. And then he sat on it.
“No, you aren’t trying your best. She’s worse than she ever was before.”
“What do you mean?”
“At least the last time I came home, she would sleep on the floor. Now you can’t even get her to do that.”
“She’s just testing me!”
“Well, I’d say you were flunking out then!”
At that moment, we both saw little fingers poke under the door frame. They wiggled at us, while a tiny
voice said, “I can hear you, Mommy and Daddy! I can hear you! Can you see my fingers?”
We tried to ignore her. Tom slumped on the cedar chest. “Look, it’s been three weeks since I’ve seen
you. Three VERY long weeks. And I’m about to go crazy if I don’t get some time alone with my wife.”
“I’m sorry. Really. I just don’t know what to do!”
McKenzie, apparently dissatisfied with our lack of attention, began chanting, “Mommy and Daddy, I can
hear you! Mommy and Daddy, I can hear you!”
Forget about massage oil and chocolate cheesecake. Tom shoved the chest away from the door,
grabbed his duffle bag and went downstairs to sleep on the couch. When I asked him why, he said,
“McKenzie tosses and turns too much.”
I spent the night tossing and turning, too. Seething with resentment about the little shape once again
happily ensconced in my bed.
I don’t know how I’m going to work it out with Tom so that we can have our romantic, PRIVATE
rendezvous, but this one thing is certain. My daughter is messing with my marriage.
THIS MEANS WAR!
Dulcie
Chapter Fifteen
From:
The Millards

Subject: My son had an idea…
…of how to get rid of my MIL. He says he’s going to arrange for Grandma to rescue him, and then
maybe she’ll think her dream of imminent danger was about to come true and that her presence was
responsible for averting disaster, and then maybe…
SHE WILL GO HOME!
You know things are bad when you are fantasizing with your eight-year-old on ways to scare your MIL
witless. But I think the daydreaming was therapeutic for us both. Tyler didn’t look nearly as hunted as he
had been, and I know I was less grumpy. Too bad there’s nothing we can do for real.
Jocelyn
P.S. She sleepwalked again last night. This time, she was asking for tape. When we asked her why she
wanted it, she said it was to clean out her belly button lint. Ewww!
From:

Subject: Re: My son had an idea…
So what disasters did you come up with? How about having a huge pot of hollandaise sauce and let
Tyler fall into it. No…wait. I think that’s been done before.
From:

Subject: Re: My son had an idea…
Hah-hah. Very funny. But if she doesn’t leave soon, I’m going to go stark raving mad. And we’ve got stuff
to do to get ready for school in the fall, and sports and dance classes and all our other activities. I can’t
be spending every minute of my day keeping my eye on her.
Tyler suggested that when we go to the lake later this week, he could act like he’s drowning. He’s
actually a great swimmer. But he says if he did it when Grandma was nearby, maybe she could play the
hero.
I think he was just joking. But there was a bit of a fanatical gleam in his eyes. I told him if he tries
anything like that for real, he’s going to be grounded to his room for at least a month, if not for the rest of
his life.
Jocelyn
From:

Subject: Update from the War Front
Hi you two,
I was going to try to write this entire email in war-language. But I don’t know how to speak military, and
besides, after last night, the 1960s slogan of “Make love, not war” seems more appropriate.
After McKenzie went to bed (in our bed, of course), I sat at the kitchen table, moping. The entire
weekend had been ruined, and it was all my fault. But then, I heard some jazz music coming from the
living room. I wandered in and found that Tom had pulled out our camping air mattress and covered it
with a satin sheet. And in the middle, on one of my glass plates, was the chocolate cheesecake. The
massage oil was on a towel to the side.
He held out his hand to me and pulled me close. “A three-year-old is no match for a guy that’s been
without his wife for three weeks,” he whispered. Then he gave me a kiss that practically turned our living
room into a sauna and my knees the consistency of the whipped cream on the cheesecake.
It was SO great to have some alone-together time. I don’t want to give you TMI (too much information)
but I will say it was a night to remember. :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) :) (Get the point???)
It still irritates me that we had to go to such measures to sleep together. Why am I sleeping on air
mattresses in my living room and my daughter is sleeping in MY bed? This is so wrong!
Anyway, I think I’ll head into the kitchen and have another slice of cheesecake. Mmmm.
Dulcie
From:

Subject: Re: Update from the War Front
Yowza, Dulcie-babe! That hubby of yours can sure come up with a good line when he wants to! I’m
impressed. So what is the next battle strategy for winning back your bed?
From:

I’ll tell Tom you think he’s pretty smooth. He’ll be glad to hear it, and goodness knows, he needs all the
encouragement he can get in that department.
The next step in the book is the Crackers in Bed method. I take saltine cracker pieces and sprinkle them
on her side of the bed. She’ll be so uncomfortable that she’ll choose her own bed just to get away from
the crackers.
Dulcie
From:

Uh, Dulcie, do you really think crackers in bed is a good idea?
Jocelyn
Chapter Sixteen
From:

Subject: Crackers in bed
The Crackers in Bed method is a very bad idea. Very bad. :( I don’t know what idiot put that one in the
book.
I woke up this morning feeling very itchy. And I heard this muffled munching behind me. I rolled over,
listening to a crackly noise, and saw my daughter, mouth full of crackers. She held out a slightly damp-
looking piece to me. “Want thome, Mommy?” Her question blew a soft cloud of cracker crumbs across
my face.
I looked down beside me and noticed her side of the bed was completely crumb free. MY side, however,
was a hill of cracker crumbs and pieces. I saw why when she meticulously brushed some stray crumbs
toward me and sprinkled a few in my hair. I snatched the cracker out of her hand. “You aren’t supposed
to eat those!” I snapped.
When I got to the bathroom, I was horrified. My face was covered with red marks from the cracker
pieces, and I still had a few bits sticking to it here and there. Plus, I’m now running late for a meeting at
church. But I just had to report in and let you know that it looks like the enemy has outwitted me once
again.
Dulcie the Cracker Girl
From:

Subject: Re: [SAHM I AM] Crackers in bed
Dulcie, why do you persist in trying these absurd methods? Maybe God is trying to tell you He doesn’t
want you to go to Hawaii or kick your poor child out of your bed. Obviously, she has some need that is
being met by sleeping with you. Do you want to deprive her of that? It could be that she is feeling
insecure because your husband is gone so much. You won’t help her by treating her like “the enemy.”
Rosalyn
(NASB)
From:

Hi girls,
I was thinking…maybe Rosalyn is right. Maybe God doesn’t want me leaving McKenzie. Tom is gone a
lot, and I know it affects all three girls. I don’t want to harm them by leaving. They’ll think I’ve abandoned
them!!!
Dulcie
From:

Now hold it right there, Soldier! You’ve come too far and fought too hard to give in to propaganda and
psychological warfare tactics now. Guilt is just as much of a weapon as anything else McKenzie has
thrown at you. It’s just coming from a different enemy location, as it were. You just keep up the good
fight, okay?
How did your church meeting go? Did you make it on time?
From:

Thanks, Z! I appreciate the encouragement. Yes, I made it to my meeting — only ten minutes late. But
our pastor’s wife kept staring at me with this weird expression on her face. Finally, after the meeting, she
walked over to me and put her hand up to my hair. She pulled out a piece of cracker I’d somehow
missed and held it up between her thumb and forefinger with an expression of distaste.
“Is this a…saltine?” she asked.
“Um, yeah.”
She stood there looking at me, and I was thinking “What — she wants me to actually explain why I have
cracker crumbs in my hair?” And then it also occurred to me that this proves I didn’t shower this morning.
How embarrassing. She’s always so put-together looking.
McKenzie came bounding up to me, saw the cracker in the pastor’s wife’s hand and said, “We had those
for bweakfast.”
Our PW’s eyes got very huge, and I laughed it off, muttering something about “Cheap, quick and on-the-
go.”
It seems like every time I talk to her, I somehow end up being completely humiliated. I don’t know how
she does it, but it’s a dubious talent at best.
Dulcie
P.S. A car just pulled up in the drive, and I think I hear our pastor’s wife yoo-hooing outside. What in the
world does she want now???
Chapter Seventeen
From:

Subject: My Cup Runneth Over
Actually, make that “my pantry runneth over.” Last night, after finding me earlier at a church meeting with
a piece of cracker in my hair, my pastor’s wife arrived at our door.
“Dulcie, dear, I’ve been thinking about you all day,” she said.
“Oh.” How am I supposed to respond. “That was…nice of you.”
“Well, after that unfortunate incident with the cracker in the hair, and after McKenzie revealed that’s ALL
you had for breakfast, I thought maybe you could do with some help.” I tried to interrupt at this point, but
she shook her head. “Now, don’t be too proud to accept help. I know it’s hard, with Tom being gone and
all.”
And before I could say anything, she trotted back to her car and pulled out two bags of groceries. She
marched them into my house, and I numbly pointed at the kitchen. Why can’t I EVER think of the right
things to say in these situations?
Why do I even GET INTO these situations???

She gave us a total of six plastic bags of groceries. And then she proceeded to give me a fifteen-minute
lecture on the importance of good nutrition and proper hygiene. So embarrassing!
But grocery shopping had been on my to-do list for today, anyway, so the gift was appreciated. I just
wish I didn’t always end up looking like a fool in front of that woman.
Dulcie
From:

Subject: Re: My Cup Runneth Over
Aw, man! Do you realize how stinking lucky you are, Dulcie? If I got a piece of cracker stuck in MY hair,
do you think anyone would give me six bags of groceries for it? No! They’d tell me I look like an idiot,
and laugh. How do you manage to get into these predicaments and end up better off than you were
before? I’d put up with a bit of humiliation if it meant free food.
Grumbling,
Z
From:

Subject: Re: My Cup Runneth Over
Don’t be jealous of me, Z! I’m the one who’s about to lose out on the chance to go to Hawaii because my
daughter is stronger willed than me. Remember???
I’m serious. It’s looking pretty hopeless at this point. I’m almost through the book, and so far, none of the
ideas have worked. And Tom’s conference is only about two weeks away. I haven’t even found a
swimsuit yet!
The next thing in the book is what they call the Trixon-Bates method. (Last names of the authors, which
means they made it up themselves.) Basically, it’s the cold-turkey method. I tuck McKenzie in her own
bed, kiss her goodnight and then race out the door and slam it before she can run out, and then hold it
shut until she wears herself out trying to get out.
It seems so…drastic. But I’m getting desperate. I really, really want to go on this trip! I don’t care what
Rosalyn says. I need to get away. I know I won’t get to spend a lot of time with Tom, but still — it’s
Hawaii. We should be together.
Yet, I don’t know if I’ve got the nerve to sit out my daughter like that. So far, she’s proven at every turn to
be more stubborn and more crafty than me. And what if this method damages her emotional well-being?
I don’t want to traumatize her. She’s only three!
I just don’t know what to do.
Dulcie
Chapter Eighteen
From:
Zelia Muzuwa

Subject: Update me!
Okay, my neurotic little buddies, what’s up? Jocelyn, how is over-protective MIL doing? Dulcie, are you
choosing Hawaii or a permanent toddler bedfellow? It’s already 11:00 a.m. here and I want to know
what’s going on!
From:

Subject: Re: Update me!
Okay, okay! I’m reporting in! We had a busy morning today because…
SHE’S LEAVING! SHE’S LEAVING! Yes, indeed, I get my house back to myself (and the other goofballs
I share it with.) My son may never again see the light of day, but he’s my hero at the moment (though I
will NEVER admit it to him!)
We went to the lake yesterday, and while I monitored the other three kids with their floaties and
kickboards, Tyler swam a little farther down the shoreline, until he was directly in front of his grandma,
who was catching some rays on a beach chair. He hollered to her, “Watch me do a trick, Grandma!” And
then he dove under the water and shoved up from the bottom, shooting into the air like a porpoise. She
loved it. So he did it again. Only this time, he didn’t come up. He can hold his breath for a really long
time, so I wasn’t worried. But after a few seconds, she started getting nervous. And so did I. Why on
EARTH did I allow him to even joke about this with me?
“Jocelyn!” she yelled. “Where did Tyler go?”

“I don’t know!”
She got frantic then. “You’d better look for him. He’s been down a long time!”
“But what about the other kids?” Thinking back on it, that should have been her first clue I wasn’t too
worried. If he’d really been drowning, you bet I would have raced over there. But at that point, I realized
what he was doing, and I was just angry at him for disobeying me. That boy was in royal trouble!
So she waded out into the water herself. I was hoping Tyler would reappear pretty soon, because I
doubted she had the strength to swim and pull him in at the same time. And he had been down awhile…
the rascal was starting to scare ME!
Then she screamed and jumped back. She toppled over and sat down pretty hard. The water was at her
chest, and she suddenly leaned forward like she was being pulled. Then Tyler leaped into her lap.
“Grandma!” he gasped. “You rescued me!”
“I did?”
“Yeah!” He hugged her. “Thanks so much!”
She frowned. “Now wait a minute…you grabbed my ankle!”
“Uh, yeah?”
“How could you grab my ankle if you were drowning?”
“I…got lucky?”
My MIL may be weird, but she’s not dumb. Her eyes narrowed, and she stood up. “That was a rotten
trick to play on your grandma, Tyler!”
“Aw, man!” He splashed the water with his fist. “I just wanted you to feel like you rescued me so you
could go home!”
“TYLER!” I yelled. Bad enough to follow through on what was supposed to have been just venting steam,
but to actually TELL her???
Anyway, to shorten a long story, the three of us had quite the argument, standing there in the lake. I
think her feelings were a little hurt, but Tyler scored the winning goal.
“Grandma,” he said, “it’s real nice of you to want to keep me safe. But who says you can? Lots of stuff
can happen to me that you can’t make stop. Maybe you better just let God watch out for me.”
Well, it’s pretty hard to argue with that sort of logic! She sputtered a little, but then had to agree he was
right. So she’s headed home today, and we are VERY thankful. Even Shane looks a little relieved.
And Tyler? I told him he was grounded until he was at least fifty. But the scamp grinned at me and said,
“Getting her to go home is worth it, Mom.” Then he winked at me! ARGGHHH!!! My son has me wrapped
around his little finger, and he knows it. The grounding got shortened to only two weeks. But I’d better
get lots of hugs from him to show his gratitude.
Jocelyn
From:

Subject: Re: Update me!
Glad things worked out with your MIL, Jocelyn. Poor lady.
My update isn’t so cheerful. I’m sitting with my back against the door of McKenzie’s bedroom to keep it
closed, and I’m using my laptop to write to you. She’s in the room, throwing toys. Oh, and a shoe, I think.
As you can see, I decided to go for the Trixon-Bates Method. I hate this book. I really, really despise and
have incredibly negative emotions toward this book. There are unspeakable things I would like to do to
this book, and would probably do, if it weren’t for the fact that I have to sit here and make sure the
Toddler Tornado stays captive in her room.
She’s screaming now. “Iiiiiieeeeeee waaaaaahhhhhnnnnn-Tuh ooooooowwwwww-Tuh!” And kicking her

le,gs agaynst the doir, which is makink typing difficu/lt.
I’ve never seen such a tantrum in my life! We’ve been at this for over thirty minutes already, and I’m
worn out just sitting here! She’s plead with me, begged me to let her out, and has sobbed, “I just want
YOU, Mommy!” until my heart has nearly broken. How long can she keep this up?
Oh great. Now she has what sounds like maybe the stove door off her little kitchen set, and I think she’s
banging it on her bed. With every blow she’s hollering, “I! Hate! My! Bed!” over and over. Why does she
dislike it so much? It’s a nice bed. Or it was. There might not be much left of it after this is over. In which
case, she can sleep on the floor for all I care.
I’m getting angry, too. She has no right to disrupt my life like this! I’m the mom, after all! Why should
someone who has only been alive three years, and who can’t even go potty by herself yet get to decide
whether or not I get to go to Hawaii? Why should I have to give that up for her? Just because she prefers
MY bed to hers?
Allow me one small toddler-ism: IT’S NOT FAIR!!!
Uh-oh, she’s quiet. No…not quiet — there’s a strange noise coming from in there. It almost sounds like
Chapter Nineteen
From:
The Millards

Subject: What happened, Dulcie???
Don’t keep me in suspense! Tell us what happened with McKenzie last night! Now that my MIL drama is
over, I need your drama to replace it. :)
Jocelyn
From:

Subject: Re: What happened, Dulcie???
Hi girls,
I am one ANGRY mama! You want to know what happened? That sound I heard was McKenzie.
THROWING UP!
Yes, she actually got herself so worked up that she puked! I know I should probably have been
somewhat compassionate about it, but under the circumstances, do you blame me for being furious?
Okay, now, after writing that, I feel guilty, too. What kind of mother am I to be mad at my kid for throwing
up? Ugh! I’m awful. But you know what? It sure FELT like she did it on purpose, just to win. IT FEELS
PERSONAL!
Especially when she crept into MY bed while I was cleaning up HER mess, and she was fast asleep by
the time I finished. I slept downstairs on the couch because I was too angry to be anywhere near that
child.
It’s just not fair! The book says nothing about what to do when you are defeated by gastronomical
warfare. It never warned me that the kid could get so upset she would puke. THIS BOOK NEEDS A
DISCLAIMER! It says that no matter what, do NOT go in the room. But I couldn’t just ignore her at that
point! And by going in, I lost. It was a no-win situation, and I’m really, really ticked off.
Tonight it’s going to be Mother’s Last Stand. No matter what I have to do, that kid is going to sleep in her
OWN BED!
Dulcie
From:

Subject: Re: What happened, Dulcie???
I’m humming a few bars from “Do You Hear the People Sing?” from Les Mis in your honor, Dulcie. You
go, girl! Let us know what happens.
From:

Subject: The Battle
It’s 11:30 p.m. I’m in the hallway with my laptop again. I am tired. Here’s what happened:
I got McKenzie ready for bed, and I told her in no uncertain terms that she was going to sleep in her own
bed tonight, no matter what. She glared at me, and said, “No my bed!” I said, “Yes your bed,” and picked
her up and put her in it. She wouldn’t let me put any covers over her — kicked them all off. But I kissed
her, anyway, and then walked out and shut the door. But I didn’t hold it shut like last night. I didn’t want
her to be able to sit in there and make herself sick again.
She immediately got up, opened the door and ran into my room. I followed her in, and she was on top of
the mattress, clutching the covers.
“Let go!” I ordered.
“NO!!!”
I grabbed her around her waist and pulled. All I got was her butt sticking in the air. Both fists were
twisted in the sheets. I tried to pry them loose with one hand and hold her with the other. But she kicked
and squirmed until I had to set her back down.
“No, Mommy! No bed!” she yelled.
I yanked on the sheets. “You — ARE — going — to — your — own — bed!!!” I gasped, prying her hands
apart. But as soon as I got one hand loose and started on the other one, the first one had grabbed the
sheets again.
Finally, I gave up and grabbed her around the waist. This time I pulled her AND the sheets off the bed.
She was screaming and flailing her feet, and one foot caught me in the jaw.
I hauled her, sheets and all, toward the door. She was facing backward, and as soon as I reached the
doorway, she let go of the sheets and grabbed the door frame. I didn’t realize she was so strong!
“LET GO, MCKENZIE!” I yelled and tugged on her arms. Her response was another kick. This one got
my eye. I dropped her, almost headfirst, and she dove back onto the bed while I doubled over in pain.
Then I lunged for her, but she was too quick. She rolled off to the other side of the bed and crawled
under it. I dropped to my stomach and finally caught hold of an ankle. I pulled her out by one foot as she
howled. She tried to grab the underneath side of the bed frame, but she wasn’t in the right position.
As soon as I had her out from under the bed, I pulled her into my arms. She chomped down on my
shoulder. My first reflex was to swat at her. She swatted right back. I carried her into her room and
tossed her on the bed. But I was winded, and she slipped out from under my hold and started for my
room again. I tackled her in the hallway.
“I DON’T LIKE YOU, ANYMORE, MOMMY!” she screamed.
“I don’t like you, either, right now!” I answered. We were panting and half-sobbing, and suddenly, she
quieted and started to cry. Like real tears. She lay on the floor, and I lay next to her, crying, too. She fell
asleep in minutes.
She’s still there. And my room, my bed, is a disaster. I’m exhausted and defeated. I’m not going to
Hawaii. It’s hopeless. I don’t know how to tell Tom I failed, but that’s the truth. I’m going to send this
letter, and then sleep next to my daughter because I don’t have the energy to get up and make my bed.
She really is stronger than me.
Dulcie
Chapter Twenty
From:
Zelia Muzuwa

Subject: For Dulcie
Hey, babe,
Don’t feel too badly. I’ve got strong-willed kids, too, and it’s TOUGH! Ultimately, they are their own
people, and it’s awfully hard to force them to do something they don’t want to do. Give it another couple
of days, and see if you can think of something else to try. There’s still time before the trip, right?
By the way, I’m starting my murals today. I think they’ll turn out beautifully. I’ll send you both pictures
when I’m done.
Sending you a hug, Dulcie. Please don’t give up.
From:

Subject: Re: For Dulcie
I agree with Z. Kids like that are no picnic. But God put that strength of will in them for a reason, and if
you can shape it in the right direction, there’s nothing they won’t be able to accomplish. I hope you can
still find a way to go to Hawaii, though. If we lived closer to you, I’d take her while you were gone.
Love you! Hope you got some rest last night.
Jocelyn
From:

Subject: Re: For Dulcie
You guys are the best! Thank you so much for encouraging and supporting me. Want to hear the rest of
my little saga?
I got up this morning, stiff and sore. My jaw is a bit swollen, and I definitely have the beginnings of a
shiner under my left eye. I stood at the mirror, surveying the damage, when McKenzie wandered in. She
looked all sweet and refreshed, and it made me furious all over again. The least she could do would be
to look as haggard as me!
“You got owie, Mommy?”
“Yeah.” I wouldn’t even look at her. “You kicked me, remember? You hurt Mommy.”
I glanced at her to see if my guilt trip was working. Apparently, I need more practice in manipulation. She
just tilted her head and studied me. “I hurt Mommy?”
ARGGGHHH!!! Has she no conscience? “YES, you hurt me! You hurt Mommy. You were a very naughty
girl, and Mommy is mad at you.”
That had more of an effect. “I sorry.”
“You should be!” I turned back to the mirror, and immediately felt guilty for not accepting her apology.
Then I got mad again. Why should I feel guilty? SHE was the one who was behaving like a miserable
little…
All the resentment of the past few weeks bubbled up. I whirled to her and stared down at her. “You were
going to get to go visit Grandma, McKenzie! You were going to get to have fun with Grandma while
Mommy and Daddy go on a trip! But now you don’t get to go! ALL BECAUSE YOU WON’T SLEEP IN
YOUR STUPID LITTLE BED!!!”
By this time, I’d bent down in her face, and she was cringing and shrinking away from me. I’m not sure if
it was my screaming at her or my morning breath. She was silent a moment, then she said in a tiny
voice, “I no go to Grandma’s?”
“NO!”
“ ‘Cause I not sleep in my bed?”
“That’s right!”
“I sleep in my own bed now.”
“Show me!”
She shook her head. “I can’t.”
“Why not?”
She looked at me as if I were dim-witted. “You not say the magic word, Mommy. You not say…please.”
I could have strangled her. I bent down again. “You want me to say ‘please’?” I whispered fiercely.
She nodded.
I ground out the word through clenched teeth. “Please.”
She turned and skipped into her room and crawled beneath the covers. “Now I go to Grandma’s house?”
I sank down in the hallway and cried.
So, the Good News is…I’M GOING TO HAWAII!!! The bad news is…I really can’t control my child. Can
you believe it? This whole time, she had it in her head that I should simply just ask her to please sleep in
her own bed. Whoever heard of that? Parents tell their children what to do. And children are supposed to
obey. It says so in the Bible! Why should I have to ask? Why should she be able to put me through the
worst two weeks of my life to date just because I forgot to say the wretched “magic word”?
I BOUGHT THAT HORRIBLE BOOK!!! Twenty-five thousand kids, it says. Twenty-five grand! But did it
work for MY kid? Noooo…because she wanted Mommy to say PLEASE.
Wretched word. Wretched book. Wretched trip to Hawaii. Wretched bed.
And now, on top of everything else…I really HAVE to go shopping for a swimsuit.
Wretched swimsuit.
Going to take a nap — BY MYSELF,
Dulcie (who will really need an attitude adjustment before she goes to Hawaii)
The End

Bedtime Battles

Uploaded by

Document Information

Original Description:

Copyright

Available Formats

Share this document

Share or Embed Document

Sharing Options

Did you find this document useful?

Is this content inappropriate?

Copyright:

Available Formats

Bedtime Battles

Uploaded by

Copyright:

Available Formats

Bedtime Battles

To: Dulcie Huckleberry

To: SAHM I Am <sahmiam@loophole.com>

Aloha to you all!

My dear Stay-At-Home Moms,

To: Dulcie Huckleberry <dulcie@nebweb.net>

I wish Rosalyn would "vanish with the sunrise," don't you?

To: SAHM I Am <sahmiam@loophole.com>

To: SAHM I Am <sahmiam@loophole.com>

And the kids — we've got that all under control.

To: Thomas Huckleberry <t.huckleberry@work.com>

To: Zelia Muzuwa

To: Zelia Muzuwa <zeemuzu@vivacious.com>

She's optimistic, isn't she? Think it'll work?

To: The Millards <jstcea4jesus@familymail.net>

To: SAHM I Am <sahmiam@loophole.com>

Be encouraged, dear moms,

To: SAHM I Am <sahmiam@loophole.com>

To: The Millards <jstcea4jesus@familymail.net>

To: Zelia Muzuwa <zeemuzu@vivacious.com>, Dulcie Huckleberry

To: Dulcie Huckleberry <dulcie@nebweb.net>, The Millards

To: Zelia Muzuwa <zeemuzu@vivacious.com>, Dulcie Huckleberry

To: “Green Eggs and Ham”

I’ll be dreaming of Hawaii tonight!

To: “Green Eggs and Ham”

To: “Green Eggs and Ham”

To: “Green Eggs and Ham”

To: “Green Eggs and Ham”

So there! Face it, you were wrong.

To: “Green Eggs and Ham”

To: “Green Eggs and Ham”

So what's next for the great Bed-dini?

To: “Green Eggs and Ham”

To: SAHM I Am <sahmiam@loophole.com>

"Grandma, it's not safe to be smothered, either!"

To: SAHM I Am <sahmiam@loophole.com>

To: “Green Eggs and Ham”

WHY CAN'T THEY ALWAYS BE ASLEEP????

To: “Green Eggs and Ham”

To: “Green Eggs and Ham”

To: “Green Eggs and Ham”

To: SAHM I Am <sahmiam@loophole.com>

To: SAHM I Am <sahmiam@loophole.com>

To: SAHM I Am <sahmiam@loophole.com>

"You never told me!"

To: SAHM I Am <sahmiam@loophole.com>

To: SAHM I Am <sahmiam@loophole.com>

To: “Green Eggs and Ham”

I wish my daughter would sleepwalk — right out of my bedroom!

To: SAHM I Am <sahmiam@loophole.com>

Where did I go wrong???

To: SAHM I Am <sahmiam@loophole.com>

To: “Green Eggs and Ham”

I'd like to find a remote and press her MUTE button!!!

To: “Green Eggs and Ham”

P.S. Dulcie, what happened with the water dripping?

To: Dulcie Huckleberry <dulcie@nebweb.net>

To: Thomas Huckleberry <t.huckleberry@work.com>

Love and smooches and hugs and cuddles,

To: “Green Eggs and Ham”

THEY NEEDED TO BE WATERED!!!

Someone just please shoot me now.

To: “Green Eggs and Ham”