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I don't think I have to tell you how I feel about bath time. My bath time. The time when the world fades away. The medicine that is good for the very soul. Just good for what ales you. Or just good. I love my bath.

Last night, I tucked  Laura Kate in bed and reminded her not to turn her lamps on to read or play and that she needed to go to sleep. I told her if she didn't go to sleep then I would have to start taking away her babies. (This isn't being cruel people, she would literally play for hours and read for hours if we didn't set limits and consequences).

So she went to sleep. Since Kyle was at class last night I had saved my dinner for after the kids went to bed and watched Glee and New Girl.

Around 9:15, I started shutting things down in the house and making my way towards my sanctuary (my bath). As I started down the kid's hallway, I heard this sweet little voice drifting down the hall. I look under her door and see the light shining out of it.

Uh oh. Oh the dismay of disobedience.

I walk in to find her reading "Hop on Pop" to her babies by the light of her lamp that I specifically told her NOT to turn on. I took her book away and told her she needed to choose one baby to give me that she would not sleep with. She tearfully chose a squeaky bird that I put up on her dresser. A midst the tears, crying, and fit, I told her I loved her and was so sad she made a sad choice but that tomorrow was a new day and to go to sleep.

By the time I turned on my bathwater, her room was quiet and I said to myself  "finally". I had literally just lowered myself into the tub, layed my head back and closed my eyes, when the red light on her monitor lit up furiously and the screaming began from her room. Not just any screaming, but the something-really-may-be-wrong-screaming. The, she-may-have-fallen-out-of-her-bed-and-broken-her-arm kind of screaming.

I gave it a minute to see if Kyle would miraculously walk through the door at this very moment.......

he did not and the screaming did not stop.

So I get out, dry off, stomp down the hall, open her door, check to make sure she was in one piece and then bark, "talk like a big girl and tell me what your problem is"

....she just points at the bird sitting on the dresser.

You have GOT to be kidding me. For the Love of ALL that is good and HOLY, THIS is what I got out of my bath for? You are feeling to weight of your consequence and you REALLY thought if you cried loud enough that I would change my mind?

Well, I didn't say that. I told her again, "I love you and am so sorry you made a sad choice. You need to go to sleep now and in the morning you can have your bird back. GO. TO. SLEEP."

The screaming continues. All the way down the hall following me back to my bathroom. My BATH. My sanctuary. So I did the only thing I could.

I marched over and turned the monitor off.

Everyone deserves a little privacy while they are suffering consequences (or taking a bath).

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