Motherhood is like being pecked to death by a duck.

Michaela has been a bit... out of sorts lately. I'm not sure if it's Christmas coming up, going to bed too late, too much activity level; whatever it is, she's been doing lots of yelling, eye-rolling, pouting and arguing. And yes, she is still only seven years old.

She woke up last night at 4am and for whatever reason, decided to "surprise" me by getting out of bed, turning on a flashlight, picking out school clothes to wear, putting them on and then going back to sleep out on the couch in the living room. We heard her stomping around (thump, thump, thump down the hardwood-floored hallway) and when she finally settled down on the couch she was coughing quite a bit and I could hear the phlegm-y junk in her throat. She got up (thump, thump, thump) and paused in front of our bedroom door. I hear her stand there for about 45 seconds as she considered whether to enter or not. She decided to take the plunge and came, of course, to my side of the bed.

This was our conversation at 4am and I am not making this up.
Michaela, whispering: Mommy, I have a bad cough. Can I get a drink of water or iced tea?
Mommy, whispering: Umm, sure. Have a drink of water.
Michaela: Why can't I have the iced tea?
Mommy, stunned that EVEN AT 4AM, SHE IS QUESTIONING/ARGUING WITH ME: Have the water because it's better for you. Go to sleep.

This was my conversation with Jenna, roughly five hours later:
Jenna: Mommy, do you think this outfit will fit this baby or no?
Mommy: No, I think it's too small for that baby.
Jenna: Well, I think it will fit. See? (holds obviously too small outfit against baby's chest)
Mommy: Why does everyone who lives in this house ask me questions and then argues with my answer?
Jenna: I don't know.