I truly admire those parents who can get their angel children to sleep at 8:00 at night. We begin our bedtime routine:
7:30 pm: baths, books, and pajamas.
7:50 pm: We rock, soothe, turn down lights, say prayers
8:00 pm: lay down and anything to clear their minds or calm their bodies.
8:02 pm: Just when all is quiet and they seem like they are asleep the meek, mild, and innocent "mommy" so quietly comes from the bedroom.
8: 05 pm: "Tuck me in with my blanket, please" is the polite request.
"Ok honey, no problem," we'll say.
8:09 pm: Then another meek and mild "daddy" from the other room.
8:13 pm: "I need socks please, my feet are cold," is the reasonable request.
"Alright honey, I can do that," one of us will say.
8:23 pm: "I'm thirsty, can I have a drink?" follows up shortly.
"Ok. I'll be right there," one of us responds.
8: 31 pm: "I'm scared, mommy," comes from the other room.
"There is nothing to be scared of honey. Now go to sleep," I'll respond.
8:35 pm: "I'm scared."
"Why are you scared?"
"I don't know, just lay down with me."
8:45 pm: I am finished laying down and going over every happy thought from his short life.
8: 47 pm: "I'm scared, mommy."
"AAAARRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!! I'll give you something real to be scared of if you don't get in your bed!" Ok, I have lost it!
8:48 pm: I realize, "they have gotten me!"
8:49 pm: I vow to not respond to anymore requests and escape their manipulative little game. I have completely fallen into the trap. No matter how many times I try to take care of every need before bedtime, I get drawn into their trap. I think they plot it out before they go to bed during bathtime. "I'll start with the drink, and then you go for the socks. I'll play the scared card, and then you ask for the blanket."
9:00 pm: The tanturm begins. By the time I realize that I have fallen into the trap it is too late! They have me, and there is no esaping without the consequences of not noticing all the signs. Each trip to the bedroom is becoming quicker with less patience, but the time between requests is also becoming quicker. That is what happens at the bedtime games, you start off patient, but end up a near-lunatic two hours later responding to all these requests. The children end up nearly hysterical because you finally figure out the trap that was planned and stop responding. The longer you stayed in the trap is proportional to the amount of time.
9: 25 pm: The tantrum continues, you try to wait it out with the patience of a saint all along cursing, "Why? How? How did I fall into this trap, AGAIN? TONIGHT!?!" They are so sneaky. Saying prayers for patience and wisdom from Mother Mary, begging for the strength to not walk in and strangle my screaming child who I so lovingly have done everything requested to make bedtime as comfortable as possible. All I wanted was one hour of peace and quiet before I tuck my own tired body into bed, but is that possible? Noooooooo.
9:45 pm "Mommy, I pooped," I hear from the bedroom. This is like the kid who cried wolf. Is this a ploy to just get me in the room, or is this for real? Do I fall into the wicked web that they keep spinning or chance being turned into to child protection services for severe diaper rash? Which is the greater risk? The screaming continues, "I pooped!" What do I do?
Cracking the door open I ask, "Did you really poop?"
"Yes," in a whiny whisper.
"You better have!" Then I commence the mother smell of the rear end to confirm. Yep! You pooped. Change the diaper. "Not another sound out of you."
"Ok." is the matter of fact response as if I should expect that.
It is 10:15 and I think they are both asleep. All I can hear is the typing on the keyboard. My head hurts, my body is tired, and my patience is frazzled. So much for a quiet hour with myself or my husband. So much for reading a chapter of my book, walking on the treadmill, or enjoying an uninterrupted television show. And guess what, it will all probably happen again tomorrow night. When will I ever learn?
