Good Night and Good Luck

Look! Something I wrote in May but forgot to post!

I hate bedtime.

I hate it.

I hate it.

I hate it.

I so long for the day that I can tuck the monkeys into their very own beds, kiss them goodnight, and close the door behind me.

Now, I know some of you are probably snickering to yourselves because you indeed live my dream. Or maybe you are snickering because you know that 5 years from now when this is true I'll be lamenting the time I got to curl up with them and have them fall asleep in my arms. And how I miss trying to untangle them from my limbs in time to watch The Daily Show with my husband. Or maybe you are snickering because you absolutely cannot believe that a self-respecting woman who is the mother of a two and four-year-old still has a family bed.

Snicker all you want (except you Dr. Sears!!), because I know that I am not alone. Just the other day I read a woman describe their bedtime routine as the "Bedtime Death March."

Getting the monkeys into bed isn't all that hard. They both very much enjoy snuggling up with me (or their dad if it is his turn) and reading books. (I had to eventually stop telling stories when it started making my brain hurt.)

Well, I should say they like the idea of reading books. They usually fight over which book I should read first, then lose interest half way through and fight over which one I should read next. These fights often become violent, which is why, most nights, I choose to read them a book called, Hands are Not for Hitting.

I bought it after reading several reviews that went like this: My 19 month old son LOVES this book. It's one of his favorites. It is simple but the message is powerful and perfect for little hitters. I would recommend it to everyone that is struggling with hitting behaviors.

Last week, in the midst of the Book Wars, I ended up with our copy of "Hands are not for hitting" right smack in the middle of my face. I could see Jiro thinking It didn't say "Hands are not for throwing!. A few days later while I was only on page two, Satchel smacked the book with his right hand and sent it flying across the room.

I've been having better luck lately with Eric Carle's Papa, Please Get the Moon for Me. I change the little girl's name to Satchel and Jiro, make everything plural, and talk like they talk: "DADDY! GET ME THE MOON! GET IT NOW!" This cracks them up.

Anyway, once we are done reading, Satchel puts his head in the crook of my left arm and Jiro throws his blanket over my chest (red side down) and put his head on it. Satchel will normally fall asleep within 5 minutes. It's amazing and a dream come true, but I can't even enjoy it because Jiro wiggles and squirms and plays and throws his water bottle at me and so on for at least 45 minutes. I must lie flat on my back with his blanket on my chest during all of his antics or he goes berserk.

It's crazy-making.

Sure I do everything I can to get him to be still--rub his back, whisper sweet nothings, scream, lock him in the closet, threaten to put him in the shower, storm out of the room, drug him with melatonin, etc. but nothing seems to work. (Dr. Sears are you still snickering?) No matter how tired he is, he just seems to need to squirm for 45 minutes.

Unless Warren puts him to sleep. Then he's out, without drama, after 10-15 minutes. Which is why I do my best to get Warren to put them to bed every night. (I have tried replicating all of his methods but I can never get his results.)

Warren leaves on Monday for 3-4 weeks and bedtime will be all mine, all week.

Hold me.

I am happy to report that there is no longer any squirming at bedtime and that after some book reading and occasional story telling, one of the monkeys falls asleep within 5 minutes, and the other goes to sleep soon after. However, we still have a looooooooong way to go before we can approximate the Urf! bedtime bliss.