Bed Time!

Andy's official bed time is 7:15, and Alex's bedtime is 7:00.  I've never understood parents who keep their kids up super late, the only exception possibly being parents who don't get home until later in the evening. But even when I worked, I'd pick Andy up from day care at 5:00, we'd eat dinner, and then baby Andy would be off to bed before 7:00 each night. For me, especially these days, I have just about had it by 6:00 and am extremely eager to start the bedtime routine.  My personal goal is to be laying down on my sofa with wine in hand no later than 7:20, and if I'm even five minutes off on this timing, then something has gone horribly wrong and somebody has some major explaining to do.

Can't you just go to sleep nicely like this
blue bear on the god-damn moon?

That being said, while Alex goes down at 7:00 and Andy at 7:15, they don't actually fall asleep in there for quite some time.  Chris and I close their door and it's like a disco ball immediately drops from the ceiling.  It's a real dance party, with Alex standing up in the crib and bobbing around and Andy doing God only knows, as the amount of jumping and crashing that we hear is borderline alarming.  I don't always go in there to check on them as often as I should, evidence being the one afternoon before nap time when I discovered that Andy had clearly knocked over his lamp the night before and tried his best to clean up and organize the broken glass shards from the CFL light bulb. The CFL light bulb which is filled with mercury and hazardous to handle and obviously some demonstration of my negligence as a parent.  Thankfully, nobody came down with mercury poisoning that day, and the lady on the phone at poison control was nice to reassure me,  "Well, the damage is done, just air the room out, the kids should be fine."  Then I thought I heard her pen scratch as she wrote down my phone number from her caller ID to place on the "Flagged" list.

Sometimes, if I'm lucky, Alex falls asleep before I stick Andy in there fifteen minutes later.  This can work out to my advantage, as Andy loses his dance partner if Alex is already passed out. However, what is happening more often these days is that Andy just takes it upon himself to wake Alex up.  One night, I put Andy in bed, closed the door, and went downstairs to pour my wine.  A moment later, I heard Alex sobbing. I went back up and opened their door only to hear Andy's instant confession from his spot right outside Alex's crib.  "I poked Alex in the eye.  Both eyes. And then I pushed him.  I want Alex to wake up."

Then there's the bathroom breaks, which are seriously out of control.  Some days, I believe Andy saves it all up until after bed time just so he can make two separate, consecutive poops followed by three trips for urine.  I will close Andy in the room, and then he will make his way back to the door, lay down on the floor, press his mouth to the crack between the door and the rug and start calling for me or Chris.  "Mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy, daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy.  Have to go poo poo.  Mommy?  Daddy?  Have to go poo poo.  Open the door.  Have to go poo poo real bad!  Mommy?????"

When we let Andy out to use the bathroom, Alex becomes immediately distraught, as if to ask, "Well, why the hell is HE leaving?  I'm the one who just got poked in the eye!"  So, if I'm feeling like a softy, I will let Andy use the bathroom while I hold Alex so that he can watch and feel part of things.  That way we're all in the bathroom and everybody's happy.  Well, almost everybody.

Andy also enjoys talking to the neighbors from his window.  I can only imagine what the people who walk by my house must think about the little boy in the second floor window who yells out hi and tells them his full name followed by a quick list of favorite shows.

Lately, Andy has been stockpiling money.  He's obsessed with his money and likes to keep coins in his pocket and tucked away in different nooks in his room.  When we are driving, I can usually bribe Andy to be quiet by passing him back a nickel or penny to hold.  Change- it's the fruit snacks of the summer.  Often, Andy will lay in bed and play with his money after bed time.  Although, there have been a couple times now that he's dropped his change right down the heating vent.  Last night, Chris heard uncontrollable sobbing coming from the bedroom, and when he opened the door, Andy was crouched over the gaping ventilation hole, holding the metallic vent in his hand, and crying about the coins he had dropped down there.  Between the amount of food Alex drops in the vent under his highchair and the coins Andy drops down in the one in his room, the ducts in this house are simply filled with treasure.  If you count a half pound of Teddy Grahams and fifteen cents as treasure.

All in all, we usually end up having to go back into the boys' room no less than four times after official bed time.  Yeah, I supposed I could just keep Andy and Alex up a little later, but the FEW times that I have done that (not on purpose, mind you), they still stay up the same amount of time. So, I ask you, what's the difference?  Might as well just put them down at 7:00 and at least get that much more, albeit interrupted, Mommy TV and wine time.

My sister and brother in law watched the kids the other night while Chris and I were at a wedding.  When I was going over the bedtime routine with Marcia, she said, "So, after I put Andy down, that's it?"  To which I laughed and laughed.  I would receive a text later that night detailing Andy's post bedtime bowel movements, Alex's wakefulness, and the whole general mess of things.  But Marcia and Mark did well.  You can't count an unsuccessful bedtime as a failure if you're dealing with lunatics.