CAN I BE REAL A SECOND? I feel like we need to talk about bedtime. I know my buddy Lindsey just raised her glass of whatever to me just now. Am I right? Jenean? You feel me.
Bedtime is crazy. Some days it is this wonderful, beautiful, peaceful routine - bath, books, bed. You tell yourself, "That's right! I got this! Look at my sweet angels going to sleep all tucked in and perfect." Right about the time, you open the freezer to eat the ice cream you've been waiting for since 4:17 p.m, you hear it.
Last, night about 40 minutes after I'd sent my 11 year old to bed, she called out like she'd been stabbed or attacked by a wolf or something. I put down my cookies and went to her room.
"What? What happened?"
"How do you spell 'subscribe'"?
Because that is really important to know at NINE FIFTEEN AT NIGHT!! Seriously.
My kids can go to school, play all day, do their homework, watch tv with me, and never once mention that their left ankle hurts so bad that they just might die and of course they can't possibly sleep just now -- UNTIL BEDTIME.
"Mom, I think my arm is broken?"
"Mom, where do aardvarks sleep?"
"Mom, I need a glow-in-the-dark protractor for school tomorrow."
"Mama! I think there is a wild animal under my bed!"
"Mama! I forgot to tell you that I told the teacher we would bring brownies tomorrow."
I can be a perfectly patient and loving mother all day long, but the last ten minutes of bedtime can turn me into the worst possible mother on the planet. It is probably the one thing holding me back from my Mother-of-the-Year title.
Why do children hate sleep? Has anyone looked into this. We've been on the planet a long, long time, and I say we stop trying to come up with new meds to help with erectile disfunction - because based on the commercials I've seen, we've got plenty of solutions for that -- how about instead we solve this tiny problem of CHILDREN WHO WON'T STAY IN THEIR BEDS!!!
I'm sure some nice folks will send me links or advice about how this is a parenting issue, and I need to get my crap together. That is probably true. But, you know what, I've got my crap together about a ton of other stuff -- so I say this one is on them. You tiny people got to get it together, and go to bed.
Right now, even as I am typing this, my daughter is rearranging things in her bedroom, and my son is peeling the table off the water bottle he just "had to have" for optimal sleep.
The problem with bedtime, as I see it, is that something about it makes me want to just go outside and take a walk -- breathe some kid free air. But I can't do that because there are clothes to wash, dishes to clean, and I got to write my 500 words -- and I would really like to watch one more episode of Stranger Things. Actually, I would like to sit on the couch and talk to my husband without someone coming into the room who needs immediate emergency surgery because their arm might be falling off. I can't seem to remember what I did with all my time before I had kids. I'm pretty sure I squandered it. Silly, childless version of Jen.
Lord, I'd finish this post, but I gotta go check on The Boy, his leg is falling off.
Lord, help me!