Word!

He wiggles, throws his head back, pulls the blanket hanging behind me and fluffs it. I put the blanket away and he pulls my lower lip instead, hard! Then he pushes the sides of the rocker with little legs, shaking my entire body side to side, only stopping to throw his head back again to look at the clock glowing by the side table. I turn the clock away. Then cries, pulls my hair and slaps my face. He shoves his face in my armpit and wiggles himself down. We wrestle. He pulls my hair, my lower lip, squeezes my nose, scratches my cheek, pokes my eye. I tell him, "you are tired! What is your deal? If you're tired, close your eyes and sleep!" Twenty minutes of this and many battle wounds to count all is quiet and I can finally lay the beast in his crib, just to hear him cry two seconds later because he already lost his paci.

Then we start to rock again.