Ending the Streak (or STREAKING??)

Last night my Mother-in-Law called. We chatted for a while about the kids. We talked about Jay's first spend the night birthday party (which was fabulous) and Annie's soccer games this weekend (she scored a total of 7 goals between two games!). Then, Trish asked me about Jane.

"How's Dynamite doing?" She asked.

I sat there for a minute, totally dumbfounded. I told her that I had no bad stories to tell because Jane was on a good streak and aside from escaping from her stroller on a daily basis, had not given me anything good to write about lately. I told her about how CUTE Jane has been and that she is really turning into a toddler and is leaving this baby thing behind. Like the other day, for instance. She finished with her lunch, took her plate to the trash, emptied it and then opened the dishwasher and PUT THE PLATE IN IT. Then she grabbed her blanket and her pacifier and headed to the stairs for a nap. I think she would have put herself to bed if I had let her. She's a hoot! She also got herself completely dressed last Friday. Complete with pants, shirt, socks and shoes. Clearly, the third child here. I think I had to MAKE Jay dress himself when he hit Kindergarten.

But last night the streak ended. Or began. Depends on how you look at it, I guess. I put Jane to bed at her normal time. However, she didn't seem particularly tired and talked to herself for a LONG time in her bed. Sounded like she was having a party in there at one point. Not sure who she invited, but the guest list was evidently large and the PARTY GOT OUT OF HAND.

And then Jamie and I made a colossal mistake. We did not check our bad baby before we went to bed. No, no. We set off to our own slumber without giving a thought to what MIGHT HAVE GONE DOWN in Jane's bed before she finally checked off the net. Lesson learned.

At four a.m. Jane started crying. I tried to ignore it, hoping she'd find her pacifier and go back to sleep. The crying got more frantic and Jamie (bless him) headed upstairs to check on her. Three seconds later he came back downstairs but all the lights were still on upstairs. THAT'S never good. So, with one bleary eye, I peered at him and said, "What happened?" "She's NAKED!" he replied. He grabbed pajamas and I laid there for about two seconds wondering if my fairy godmother was going to come and take care of the mess that I knew was awaiting me. Stupid fairy godmother NEVER shows.

And when I got upstairs, the naked baby greeted me in her full glory with a huge grin and singing a song. Her sheets were SOAKED and she was SOAKED. This, of course, is what happens when you fall asleep at 7:00 p.m. and are TOTALLY NAKED. Jumping without a net, she was.

So, we got her cleaned up, put a new diaper on (backwards and with DUCK TAPE, I might add) put new sheets on the bed, started a load of laundry, updated my Facebook status (oh you KNOW you would too!) and climbed back in the bed so that I could lie awake until about 7:05, falling asleep and dreaming just in time for my alarm to go of at 7:15.

Thank GOODNESS she gave me something to write about.