Today, Abbott woke me and Seth up at 5am demanding we give him a banana. I wish I could say this is the first time he’s done this but the truth is we’re really on an early-morning, banana-demanding streak. For the past two months (at least), he’s been waking up anywhere between the hours of 3:00 and 5:15 in the morning, demanding a banana. He refuses to go anywhere BUT the kitchen and will NOT take no for an answer. He hits, he kicks, he screams (there is so much screaming), he slaps, he cries and he yells ‘NANA! at least thirty times.

He’s like a fucking minion who needs anger management classes.

And, of course, because we want to sleep – we miss sleep, we need sleep – we’ve kept our banana supply high and we meet his demands when they come. Now, I know what you might be thinking. We’re the parents, we call the shots. Well, you know who needs sleep more than us? Our threenager. He’s the one who calls the shots right now because  he is the most influential factor in our family’s quality of life. And we all have to make sacrifices to ensure he gets his sleep so we don’t suffer later. For Seth and I, that sacrifice is waking up with our one-year old, giving him a banana, taking him back to our bed or to the couch and then trying to fall back to sleep while he eats a banana in our ears. And if you’re not familiar with toddlers’ eating skills, listening to Abbott eat a banana in the middle of the night is a lot like what I imagine listening to a giant dog try to eat peanut butter out of the jar in the middle of a pitch black forest might be like. Reallyfuckinguncomfortable.

It’s starting to drive me nuts; like, I actually think I might be losing my mind. And not just because he’s waking us up demanding a banana but because he comes home from school and demands a banana, sometimes he demands it as soon as he gets in the car. Anytime he walks into the kitchen, he demands a banana. At random moments, when he’s completely preoccupied, his eyes will light up and he’ll suddenly demand a banana, like the bunch is fucking calling him from the kitchen. He is obsessed with bananas. And it wouldn’t be so bad if he ate them when we gave them to him but he doesn’t even always eat them! He eats a varying portions of them and then leaves them, hides them, loses them, forgets them and, at times, he purposely STICKS them to things.

I have found half- or partially-eaten bananas in the boys’ ball pit, in the laundry basket, tucked away in random toy vehicles, at the bottom of a playskool shopping cart, in the couch, in every bed in our home, in the boys’ dresser, in multiple toy bins and in shoes. I have found bananas lying in the middle of the living room floor, in the middle of the hallway and on random tables and chairs. One time, I came across a giant chunk of banana stuck to the wall in the playroom. It was out of the way and hidden so by the time I found it, it was so old it had turned black and literally had to be chipped off of the wall with a butterknife. We only identified it as a banana through a process of elimination. (#proudMOMents, #parentingisneat).

Seth and I have gone from worrying he’s not eating enough (hence, the waking up early) to wondering if he could be addicted, to worrying we’ve just played into and created a bad habit. Recently, the only nights he’s slept through so happen to follow the evenings where the boys have had ice cream after dinner. Because of course they do. So now our theory is that he just needs ice cream! I mean, we’re still in the testing phase of this theory and I’m not actually at the point where I need sleep so badly that I’m willing to give them ice cream every night, but one more month of this banana craze and we might not just be heavy supporters of the banana business but also the ice cream business.


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