I'm going to buy my children new beds.
Hospital beds. With restraints.
Wonder if they make those in bunk beds?
Bedtime is going to be the death of me. Or them.
I have this idea that bedtime should be a time to unwind. A calm relaxing time, where everyone speaks in hushed tones and we read soothing stories and snuggle then everyone shuffles sleepily to their respective beds, where I kiss them, tell them I love them and drift peacefully off to sleep.
Instead bedtime is this:
"Brother, get dressed for bed. Sister, brush your teeth. Baby, bring Mommy a diaper. Sister, did you take your medicine? Brother, get dressed for bed. Brush your teeth. Get dressed. Diaper. Teeth. Dressed. NOW. BRUSH YOUR TEETH. DID YOU HEAR ME??!! I SAID GET DRESSED!!! HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO SAY IT??!! WHERE'S THE DIAPER???!!! NO STORY!!! NO KISSES!!! GO TO BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEDDDDDDDDD!!!!"
Then once they are finally in bed, Baby gets up at least a gajillion trillion times telling me she has a dirty diaper (she doesn't) or her Dora doll needs to be dressed (she doesn't) or the sky is falling (it isn't).
Please tell me your bedtime looks like this, too.
And tell me this - Why do my children bicker and/or ignore each other all day and suddenly, between baths and bed they are bosom buddies, frolicking and hanging from the ceiling together as if it were the most natural thing for them to be enjoying one another's company so completely?
Bedtime? What is that? Look, Mommy Dear! We love each other! We are adorable! You can't possibly think about bedtime now!
Uh, yeah. Watch me.
So, the beds. I'm thinkin' it's the best idea I've had all year.
And if the restraints don't work on the kids. I'll use them.
To hang myself.