Bedtime

As one of my friends would write; sigh, sigh, sigh.

I type as I wait for the babes to transition from getting in their beds to actually going to sleep. I may renounce them as my muses for the moment. Speed-bumps are more the metaphor I'm looking for right now.

Bedtime tonight started out with me being grumpy and feeling really lazy, so letting bedtime get started later than I like to start, never a sign of a smooth bedtime to come. In the midst of feeling hurried to get to my post-bedtime me time, feeling grumpy that me time tonight is going to consist cleaning and laundry because I didn't fit it in today, Troy heading off for another night shift, and Claire fussing for me to sit down to nurse her before bed, I discovered a spill that had been a full cup of tea, one I meant to sit and enjoy this afternoon and in the midst of demands was forgotten. Already annoyed at the mess in this house, and being the sole one to clean (for Troy's sake I will put 'most of the time' here, he does help when he can), this tipped me over the edge. Not to mention the irritable idea that I shouldn't have left the tea there anyway, mixed with the frightful idea that it could have been spilled when it was hot, and topped with the thought of the annoying ants we've been fighting having a field day in this lake of sugar. At this I didn't think to take a deep breath and decide to have a pleasant bedtime anyway, an idea that I realize now would have been my best plan. Nope, I proceeded to nurse Claire while shouting directions at the boys to get their teeth brushed. Directions that were in no way, shape, or form followed. I'm sure this was a peaceful way for poor Claire to eat and get to sleep. Thane had been grumpy also, since getting a bump in the head this afternoon. With a shovel. I wasn't there for that one, Troy assures me it was a one-man accident and sounds worse than it was. Anyway, being yelled at for claiming 'he didn't notice' the whole cup of tea crashing to the floor and spilling (did I mention this was all over my wicker basket of knitting and new knitting book?) and then not even attempting a clean up or getting someone to help him with the mess, did not help his mood or his desire to be obedient getting ready for bed.

So now I sit, fielding this boy's room exits (thankfully Seth just went to sleep tonight) and waiting until I know he is actually sleeping so I can feel free to go downstairs, start laundry and cleaning, without him wandering all the way down there to me with his bedtime questions and issues. This involves a conversation something like this..

Thane comes into the hall and looks over the railing into the living room where I sit here: "Mom, I need to get something."

Me: "No you don't. Go to bed."

"But I need this part to this toy."

"No you don't, it's time for bed. You can find that part in the morning."

Thane goes back into his room. Maybe five minutes later, he re-emerges.

"Can I go into Seth's room to get it? I think it's in there."

"No! He's trying to go to sleep! You coming out into the hall making noise is not making his bedtime any easier either, go to bed!"

"But I really need it!"

"GO TO SLEEP!"

Thane goes back into his room.

Then he's back.

"I need some water."

"THANE!"

"I'll get it myself." And he scurries to the kitchen.

At this point I herd him back upstairs, full of endless lecturing and admonitions. I tuck him in, again, and come back downstairs.

Then I hear, "Mom?"

Sigh, "Go to sleep Thane".

Ignoring that completely, "I lost ten Pokemon cards at school today to Aidan".

Wondering why the child had his treasured cards at school at all, wondering when and why the six-year olds were allowed to gamble them away at school, wondering about the supervision at school and adding this to the list of why homeschooling would be a good idea, thinking we should have an in-depth talk with him about taking care of his things and standing up for himself (I'm pretty sure he doesn't know the 'rules' to the game), but that now is not the time, I stutter out, "Thane, don't take your cards to school."

Then, annoyed at falling for his distraction techniques again, I get back to my guns. "Close your eyes and your mouth and GO TO SLEEP!"

I think he's asleep now.

Onwards and upwards to scrubbing tea from the floor, couch, books and wicker. Sigh, sigh, sigh.