How Tea Changed My Life

My child is the best sleeper in America. At two (and a half-as she is likely to inform should you ask) years old, she is still sleeping a solid twelve hours every night, with a blessed three (sometimes four! Woo!) hour nap during the day. This is what I refer to as "happy hour(s)".

As an infant, she slept wherever you put her. She refused to be rocked or otherwise fussed over, and would scream this sentiment at any unsuspecting bed-putter until they got the clue and laid her in her bassinet and walked away. She slept so much that we did whatever we wanted. We carried our little hotdog around in her carrier and had it not been for my Postpartum Depression and lingering marsupial pouch, no one would have suspected much of a life change.

She started sleeping through the night (and by "through" I mean 8-10 hours) at 8 weeks. Her preferences for her sleep habits have matured, but certainly not changed. Now instead of screaming when you don't leave her alone at bedtime, she walks to her own crib with all appropriate paraphernalia in hand and says "Mommy, put me in my bed please." If you linger too long: "Ok Mommy, you can leave my room now." Basically I spawned the greatest sleeper of all time.

That was until I moronically introduced her to tea.

You see, our friend brought us a delicious jar of Russian Tea as a housewarming gift. I am already a tea drinker, and I'm also hooked on many harder forms of caffeine, so the content in tea never phases me. So last night I innocently thought an excellent family night would be cups of tea all around and "The Pirates Who Don't Do Anything". The movie ended (thankfully! The mouthed cheese puffs were starting to freak us all out.), and we shuttled the lowest girl on our totem poll off to her bed. That was nine o'clock. When I came upstairs to go to my own happy sleep haven at 12:30, this is what I received:

"Hey Mommy! You goin to bed? Can I have a one drink?"

I peered through the door and saw 22 pounds of wide eyed energy standing erect at the side of its crib. I shrunk to the shadows, terrified. What do I do? I'm not one of these parents who ever had to deal with bedtime issues!! Maybe she's a T Rex and if I stand real still, she won't notice me...

"Hey Mommy? What are you doing at my door?"

Darn.

I tiptoed in, still holding my breath.

"Can I have a one drink?" she crooned, ever so sweetly.

"You don't need a 'one drink', and why are you awake?!" I splurted.

"Cause. Inano. (Two-year-old Appalachian word equivalent to the phrase "I don't know") Then can I potty?"

"Do you need to potty?" I studied her quizzically for a truthful response. Turns out it wasn't necessary:

"Nope." She answered plainly.

"Then why do you want to? And why aren't you ASLEEP!?"

Her eyes were still bulging like some kind of zombie when she gave her response that indicated both of our understanding of the situation:

"Mmmmm...Inano."

I told her to lay down and go to sleep and went on to my room, where I lay listening to her sing until 1 am. She woke up at nine completely refreshed. I found this odd, but shrugged it off and braced myself for a day in a house with an ill-slept toddler. Only later in the morning did I realize what had happened. I was fixing my morning cup, and the slight mini-me came in and ever-politely asked for her own cup. Delighted with her liking for something I'm so fond of, I immediately began scooping tea...into...her...cup...including...its...caffeine. oh. Oops. Good thing I'm not going for any awards here.