I Want My Starbucks!

I want a big ol' chai and a pastry and maybe a chocolate-chip cookie. And I want the Hershey kisses that are sitting in the conference room, another slice of the incredibly yummy cinnamon bread (yeah, I had one slice---but a really small slice!), and some of the butter cookies.

I'm starting to crack. And it's all Rowen's fault.

The cold weather has made Rowen extraspecially hyper, but she's been very good about snuggling down to sleep with me when I go to bed and sleeping soundly through the night. Last night, however, she wanted to play with her toys at bedtime. And her toys are not allowed in my bed, mostly because the sound of her chewing and licking rubber is gross and annoying. So I tossed the toy out of bed, and Rowen followed it. I invited her back into the bed sans toy (she has to be invited onto the bed; she's not allowed to jump up on her own), but she decided she'd rather stay on the floor with her toy. That was fine by me, so I turned out the light and went to sleep.

At about 2 in the morning, Rowen changed her mind. She wanted in the bed with me. And because she knows that she's not allowed to jump up without my say-so, she sat next to the bed and proceeded to whine. And whine. And whine. But yet another one of my rules is that once the lights go out, that's it: She's either in the bed or out of it. The rule exists to teach her not to do this exact thing: Wake me up in the middle of the night wanting to get into the bed. I tried to ignore her for as long as I could, but after nearly an hour, I decided that enough was enough and she needed to spend the rest of the night in her crate. I roll out of bed and toss her in (with a toy and plenty of water---I'm not a totally horrible mom). She then continues to whine and cry for another TWO HOURS as I lie in bed absolutely refusing to give in. Finally, though, I think, "Maybe she has an upset tummy and needs to go outside." So I once again pull myself out from my warm covers, bundle up, and take her outside. She does not have an upset tummy. She's just being a brat. Back into the crate for her. And back to bed for me. Although I'm not sure why I bothered, because she kept whining for another two hours, by which time it was past time for me to get up.

She knew she was in trouble this morning: She sat right behind me while I washed up, which she never does; kept trying to bump my hand with her nose to get me to pet her; and went straight to her crate the first time I gave the command (she stays in the crate during the day).

So I'm tired and cranky and at work and surrounded by goodies and I'm very, very close to giving in to temptation.