Humble pie for a sleepy mom

So there's an internet meme going around right now, a certain bedtime story by Adam Mansbach. And I laughed along with everyone else, listening to Samuel L. Jackson's audio version, peeping over my shoulder to make sure the kids were otherwise occupied.  But I have to admit, my laughter had this mean tinge of schadenfreude about it.  "Well, at least I don't have to deal with that."

It's been a point of pride with me for a long time: I have plenty of failings as a parent, but I'm pretty good at getting my kids to fall unconscious.  Alex reliably goes to bed at 7:00, or 7:30 if Dennis and I are behind on our bath and bedtime routine. One story, one hug, one kiss, and he's done.  We don't generally see him until twelve hours later. Seriously.

Ella is older, and our first (therefore bearing the burden of all of our worst parenting mistakes) and so she takes a little longer. Usually one of us reads a chapter of whatever book we're working on with her: Dennis and she just finished reading The Hobbit.  And then she likes to read for a few minutes by herself, and then she'll listen to music as she drifts off.

The other day nochElla asked her "What time do you have tea?"

"Well, we usually eat dinner at 5:00 or 5:30," Ella told her.  "What time do you eat?"

"Oh, well, we eat at 7:00."

"7:00!" My daughter couldn't believe it.  "But...that...that's bedtime!"

She's actually a little misled.  I'd say we're usually done with her by 8:30 at the latest.

And, until recently, Joey was just as easy as Alex.  He used to have a nap in the afternoon, and then he'd fall asleep, again, alongside his brother, quietly, obediently snuggling in bed.  It was awesome.

But then something happened.  I don't know if it's that he's outgrowing his nap, or if we're messing with his schedule with too many hotel stays.  (Because hotels are another thing entirely: forget about getting your kid to sleep on time in a new bed with the  excitement of travel and sharing a room.  It just isn't reasonable.) Part of it, I'm sure, is our unwillingness to let him chatter away in his room while Alex is trying to fall asleep, because Alex really needs those twelve hours.  He's a mess without them.

Whatever it is, Joey's sleep schedule is totally falling apart.

Today (after a half-hour of my struggling to get him to nap earlier today), Joey fell asleep for a late nap, right around 4:00, snoring away, plop in the middle of the carpet.

By the way, those of you who think I'm exaggerating about Joey's snoring, well, I'm not.

It was actually kind of nice, for a time.  Joey's grumpiness had been grating on me, and I got to help Alex make his gifts for his teacher, and then play with Ella, too, who mercifully got most of her homework done at school.

Sewing a banner for his teacher

Ella, reverting to her natural state. Read: covered with
glue and glitter.

And then I tried to wake Joey up for supper, and he wouldn't budge.  And then at bathtime: no dice.  I wondered if maybe he was sleepy enough to make it through the night, and tucked him him, but, just as I was reading Alex his bedtime story, Joey popped up.  "Hey...HI!"

So that was that.  We fed him and bathed him and hopefully put him back in his bed.  "What? No! No bed!" He looked astounded.  What were we thinking?

Fine.  So we let him play with some toys, and he as actually really cute, moving pieces around a game board, making them speak to one another.  "Hey! I'm going now! You come! Hey! What you doing? Wheee!" He had a whole little thing going on.  And then he wiggle over to me, his legs sealed together, saying "Hey! Look, mom! I'm a mermaid!"

9:30, we tried putting our little mermaid to sleep again.  Joey giggled, slipped Alex's watch on his wrist, and then consulted it authoritatively.  "Nope. No bedtime! It daytime!"  I tried to reason with him, but Joey pointed to his watch.  It tells no lies.

I was finishing up a good book, and I figured it wouldn't do too much harm to have him play at my feet, adorable, snuggly, and contented as he was.  Well, almost contented.  I eventually had to set my book aside so that we cold look for Goldbug in amongst all of those trucks and cars and things that go for what is surely the 634th time.  But it's a pretty good bedtime story, right? Well not this time.

You already know how this is going to end, right?  Of course you do.  With Joey, in an inconsolable rage at 11:00 at night, screaming for twenty solid minutes ("Shhh! The neighbors, Joey!") because I wouldn't let him watch Mickey Mouse.

And me, chanting softly to myself, "The cats nestle close to their kittens, the lambs have laid down with the sheep. You're cozy and warm in your bed, my dear..."


Epilogue: 

The next morning, at 10:45, still wearing his brother's watch, Joey fell asleep, sitting on the cold marble stairs and leaning on his scooter, as he was waiting for me to dash inside to grab my keys.


Poor guy.  We'll do better tonight.