Bedtimes in my household fall into two distinct categories.
There are the “good” bedtimes, where both kids cooperate. They do what they need to in the bathroom, brush their teeth without a fuss, put on their pyjamas, and then lie down together quietly on James’ bed without fighting, waiting for their bedtime cup of milk and their story. They are model children, like little smiling angels.
Then, there are the “challenging” bedtimes (I hesitate to use the word “bad” because that sends negative karma into the universe).
These are the ones where I cannot pry George away from his computer, where he’s watching the “Annoying Orange” videos that I haven’t succeeded in blocking (look them up on YouTube – you’ll see why they need to be blocked).
They are the bedtimes where James strips off his clothes and runs around the house like a speed demon, waving his willy around as if he’s trying to lasso a runaway steer, all while yelling at the top of his lungs, “Mommy is a fee-fee-head!” On evenings like this, getting my kids into bed is like herding cats.
Guess which category most bedtimes fall into.
Last week we had a bedtime that was particularly brutal (For me. For the kids, it was funny.) The entire family had been ill with a vicious gastroenteritis bug that had resulted in an overnight hospital stay for James and had taken him out of half of his daycare for a week. As a result of this chaos, the normal bedtime routine (I use the word “normal” very loosely) had completely gone out the window.
This particular evening was the first time everyone was well enough for us to resume regular routines. Both kids were completely recovered, and although I was feeling better myself, I was so exhausted from the adventures of the previous week that I could have wept. The kids must have picked up on this. When I’m feeling tired or sick, they tend to dial-up the noise and the running around and the mess-making and the mischief to maximum levels.
It’s like that thing that happens in the wild, where animals pick on the weakest member of the herd.
I stumbled around the house in a fog of exhaustion, looking for the kids’ pyjamas, which always end up in interesting, hard-to-find places when they take them off in the mornings. With pyjamas in hand, I went to each of the kids in turn.
“James, please put on your pyjamas,” I said politely.
“OK, Mommy,” he said, ever-so-sweetly.
I went to George, who was sitting on the couch playing with his Alphabet Apple.
“George, please put on your pyjamas.”
“Nopes,” he said, in his sweet lyrical voice.
George’s habitual use of the word “nopes” somehow takes the edge off the sentiment expressed by a simple “no”. George, I suspect, knows this, and uses it to his advantage. It’s very hard to get mad at a kid who’s looking at you with big blue eyes while gently saying, “Nopes.”
I tossed the pyjamas at my betrothed, wearily asking him to bully his son into putting on his pyjamas, and I went off to check on James.
James had stripped off his clothes and was lying naked on his bed, using a Magic Marker to colour in the picture of the sheep on his pyjama top. I sighed and silently counted to ten, and then wrestled James into his pyjamas while he screamed at the top of his lungs, “I want to do it myself! I! WANT! TO! DO! IT! MY! SELF!”
When his pyjamas were on, he went running to his Dad, crying as if the world was ending. He tearfully said to his Dad, “I wanted to put on my pyjamas myself, and Mommy wouldn’t LET me!”
Oh dear. Once again, I am the evil parent.
While James was telling Gerard how mean I was, George spilled juice all over his pyjama top. This was not an accident. He looked me right in the eye, and giggling as if this was the funniest thing in the world, he poured the juice down his front. I counted to ten (again) and spent the next ten minutes digging around in the mound of clean laundry that hadn’t been put away in search of clean pyjamas, for a kid who refuses to wear all but two pairs. It was like looking for a needle in a haystack.
I confess that although I found clean pyjama bottoms, the top came from the pile of unwashed laundry. Not my most stellar parenting moment.
Now that both kids had on clean pyjamas (well, clean if you count a sheep made bright blue by Magic Marker and a top that had been previously bound for the washing machine), I had to actually get them into bed. I cannot recount the details of this experience, because I always try very hard to block traumatic memories from my mind. I can still hear the screams from that evening – the screams in my head, that is.
I will say that getting them to bed involved toothpaste smeared onto the bathroom wall directly from the tube (James), a full basket of clean and folded laundry tipped over and dispersed throughout the house (George), a game of “Chinese Fight” (a wrestling match that George and James engage in that is as sinister as the name – coined by James – suggests), and much counting to ten (me).
Somehow I got them into bed, and somehow they actually went to sleep, having no doubt exhausted themselves with their antics.
Somehow, I managed to survive that evening without turning into a raging alcoholic (although I confess that wine was consumed once the little cherubs were snoring blissfully).
How do you cope when your children are running wild? Do you tend to lose it or does your inner Zen take over and keep you calm?
This is an original post for World Moms Blog by Kirsten Jessiman of Toronto, Canada. Kirsten can also be found on her blog, Running for Autism.
Photo credit of sleeping boys (taken about three years ago) to Kirsten Jessiman.
Kirsten Doyle (Canada)
Kirsten Doyle was born in South Africa. After completing university, she drifted for a while and finally washed up in Canada in 2000. She is Mom to two boys who have reached the stage of eating everything in sight (but still remaining skinny). Kirsten was a computer programmer for a while before migrating into I.T. project management. Eventually she tossed in the corporate life entirely in order to be a self-employed writer and editor. She is now living her best life writing about mental health and addictions, and posting videos to two YouTube channels. When Kirsten is not wrestling with her kids or writing up a storm, she can be seen on Toronto's streets putting many miles onto her running shoes. Every year, she runs a half-marathon to benefit children with autism, inspired by her older son who lives life on the autism spectrum. Final piece of information: Kirsten is lucky enough to be married to the funniest guy in the world. Connect with her on Facebook, Twitter and Instagram. Be sure to check out her YouTube channels at My Gen X Life and Word Salad With Coffee!
Follow Me:
Oh my, that was a night…I guess I have a mixture of reactions and it all depends on my state of mind. I aim for zen, but I’m not naturally zen. I have to work really hard at keeping my cool sometimes. Wine is good.;)
It’s *really* hard work! By nature I tend to be more of a fly-off-the-handle type of person, but I’m trying to teach myself a bit of zen! The wine helps!
What an evening you had! I was laughing out loud as it sounds hilarious, but I must say that I am so impressed with you! Managing to keep your calm, count to ten, and not cry! So glad to hear that I am not the only one so exhausted that I sometimes feel like crying, and that is with just one kid to look after, can’t imagine what it would be like with two! Can’t get the thought of the lasso out of my head and the colouring in with the magic marker 🙂 They do look ever so cute though and you must be the proudest mum! (After that glass of wine that you so deserved).
It was one of those evenings that I just knew I would find funny when it was done, even though I just wanted to cry at the time. I still approach bedtimes with some trepidation – I haven’t quite recovered!
Although I’m sure that was a painful night for you, it makes for a hilarious story! That was fun to read. I can’t imagine how a mother could have handled that night any better than you did. I could use some of your patience. I struggle with keeping my cool when the kids are being difficult. It’s easier with the little guy because he’s only two, and his defiance is still cute (like “nopes” for you), but the older one makes me bonkers some times.
By the way, I watched a couple of those Annoying Orange videos on YouTube, and I agree with you. Although they are a tiny bit funny. Don’t you think?
Ya kidding me? Those videos are freaking HILARIOUS! I can totally see why George likes them so much, but they’re kind of brutal for a seven-year-old! If you like those vids you should go to YouTube and type in “Screaming eggs” in the search box. That’s another one that George discovered!
Kudos to you for the many times you counted to ten in this story! Patience is so hard to maintain, especially after the week you had leading up to this night. Well done, well done, well done!
You made the comment about what happens in the wild, and it is wild at times…this whole family thing. My husband and I sometimes lie in bed at night after finally getting our boys to bed and just say, “We created them, and they live here now.” Obvious, I know. And I love my kids to pieces, but sometimes it feels kinda surreal, especially after that glass of wine 😉
I know what you mean! Sometimes I say to Gerard, “Where did all of that energy live before the kids got here?” And then I look at the kids and think, “Wow, we actually made human beings!” It does have a surreal quality to it!
Kristen – thank you for sharing your brutally honest experience. I think we all have days like this. At the time I usually want to yell or scream, but try to keep my calm. Thankfully, we can usually laugh about it later.
@ Tara – I love your mantra “We created them, and they live here now”. Ours, especially for big girl, is “she is a product of our love and inexperience”
Cheers to you all! I will have a glass of wine tonight and think of you 🙂
When you said, “…I could have wept,” I thought to myself that I would have, which is what I do when my 15 month-old twins throw tantrums, pushing, scratching, hitting both me and each other…usually when they’re sick. I join right in and release my emotions right along side them. It’s a way of ‘taking care of myself’ by allowing my emotions to process so that I can move on from the tension, rather than bottling it up and later releasing in frustration (or a hangover 😉
You know, sometimes I’m so tempted to just throw myself on the floor and thump the ground with my fists when they have their hissy-fits. I think that would make me totally lose the shred of credibility I still have with my kids 🙂
Ugh! The more tired they get, the wilder. It’s amazing. I find simplifying worked for us — taking away the stuff! I regretted having so much stuff for him to distract himself with. I admit to laying down with him at night which helps and I love it. Sometimes I fall asleep with him which is a good thing. Even with a lot to do, falling asleep at 8PM definitely has it’s benefits the next day.
I always find it fascinating that both of my kids start bouncing on the ceiling at around 7:00 p.m., an hour or so before they go to bed.
I also love to lay down with my boys at night. They’re little monsters at times but there’s no better feeling than those little arms giving me hugs.
wow, I don’t know if it’s the age of my kids, their gender differences or the strict boundaries we’ve always laid around the bedtime routine. Whatever the reason, I thank my lucky stars I haven’t experienced a night like you’ve described here (Then again, the only counting to ten that I could muster under such circumstances would be the number of seconds before they both were put out on the curb with signs around their necks…) Kudos on your tolerance level and keep-cool-ability. If they start to go bonkers around 7, maybe that’s what time the bedtime routines should start?
Hmmmm, signs around necks… hadn’t thought of that one!
I’d love to start bedtime routines at around 7:00 p.m. but it’s just not practical. I only get home from work at about 6:00, and by the time I’ve fed the kids and ourselves it’s already later than that. Long commuting times drive me crazy!
OMG! This sounds like my house last night, although with us it started with dinner with a tantrum of not wanting to eat the quiche that I made (which is one of Jonathan’s favorites)! Once I finally got him into his pj’s (there was some wrestling involved) he refused to brush his teeth and insisted on laying down in my bed. I gave in, but walked away (while pleaded for me to stay) to nurse the baby to sleep in the livingroom – at which point Jonathan followed, curled up next to me and passed out from sheer exhaustion. Finally peace and quiet!
Oh, you poor thing, that does sound exhausting! Dealing with evenings like that when one of the kids is a baby is very challenging. The only saving grace of nights like that is that the kiddos tend to exhaust themselves and pass out.
Oh my sweet lady! I have no advice whatsoever! Just a been there, done that and a please pass the wine! And the chocolate! 🙂 And seriously? How cute is the word “nopes?!” 🙂
Kirsten,
I love this picture of your two sweet boys! And, how you always manage to find humor in tough situations.
How do I cope? Deep breaths! I definitely have a breaking point. Why in the world after I’m exhausted putting my daughter to bed and I FINALLY have a moment to myself does she start yelling out that she’s HUNGRY??? I had to set better game rules at dinner. “Fill up that belly because there is no eating after bedtime!!” And, I have to be consistent.
I can imagine that it will be different with two. I’m not ready to be teamed up on!! Thanks for keeping the humor in parenting!!
Veronica Samuels 🙂