We finally found out the meaning of Veronica's hilarious fascination with the door in the bathroom. I was walking in the other night while Jason was giving her a bath, and managed to hit my arm on the door so hard that I almost yelled a very foul profanity right there in front of her. The door reverberated and Veronica laughed, but for some reason she thought I had ran into it with my rear end rather than my arm. Hence the references to pee-pee (which you do in the bathroom) and my butt. She put it all together last night: "Dat a funny door! Bump Mommy in da butt! Dat hurt! Dat hurt the door!" and laughed uncontrollably.

The bad news: This revelation came at about one in the morning. Veronica has a new habit of not wanting to go to bed, or at least, not sleeping once there. She wants to talk in a stream-of-consciousness fashion involving quotes from Avatar, things said at school, and of course, funny stories about Mommy bumping her butt. She will cry. She will ask for water, and milk, and juice. She will ask for applesauce, because she knows we'll give that to her because she doesn't eat enough to keep a bird alive. (She calls it "bupplesauce"; she can say it properly, we've heard her do it, she just prefers not to.) She'll announce "I have boogers!" so Jason will come in with a Q-Tip and a tissue. Here it is, 45 minutes after she's been in bed, and Jason's in there now as she tries cajolling him into getting up and playing with her Fischer Price Little People some more. She's jumped out of bed and tried running around the house.

It's awful because she knows exactly how to press all our buttons. She'll call our bluff if we threaten her - take my bear and my dolls away? "I no want bear!" Out of bed, the bear flies. Anything you can think of, she resists. It's a fight to do ANYTHING.

I need to go now, as the situation in the other room is escalating. Good freakin' lord. I love Veronica dearly, but this is getting old.