Tonight was one of those nights I felt like the father in the book Go the F* to Sleep. Have you guys seen this book? Or better yet, have you heard Samuel L Jackson narrating the book? Warning: the language is obscene and you’ll most likely hurt yourself from laughing so hard.
Instead of putting the kids to bed at different times, we’re putting them to bed at the same time this summer. Scorch is going to bed a tad earlier, the Bean a tad later, so we can do fun things in the evening- picnics, concerts, play date, BBQs. Most of the times this works out fine- it’s chaotic, but it’s fine. Then I have nights like tonight. Nights when:
> I leave the kids unattended in the bathroom (Bean getting read to use the toilet and Scorch brushing his teeth) for 2 minutes and come back to find a spilled cup of water in my magazine rack and the Bean with her foot in the (clean) toilet water.
> Scorch and Bean jump on Scorch’s bed together (something not typically allowed) and I let it slide because clearly these two have to work their sillies out somehow. We may or may not have said our nightly prayers while they were jumping- I’ll never tell.
> the Bean wants her covers just so, but she can’t explain what just so is so we both end up red faced and frustrated because neither one of us get what the other one is saying.
> Scorch and the Bean need band-aides for various reasons (bug bites, scratches, imaginary boo-boos) but can’t leave the band-aides alone so they need another one. Then another one.
> 2 ice cubes in the Beans water is simply not enough, she wants 3. And she wants to get the water and the ice herself and put the top on her cup herself, resulting in more spilled water.
I handled most of this with grace (I swear), all the while thinking about the book. I would never, ever swear at my kids- I don’t never like to say “butt” in front of them. But I will surely think bad words at them. A lot.
Yep. Tonight was one of those nights I came out and bitched, swore, and ranted at my wife. Well, not so much AT her as vented at her about the kids. Why does it have to be a project every night, I said. Why does there always have to be something more that they need or want even after the prayers are said and the bedrime stories read? Why the eff can’t they just go to sleep!!!
So reading your post was like a tonic, like a lifeline…Ahhh, so I’m not the only crazy one who swears in the silence of his mind.