Bedtime for Bonzos

Bedtime is the bane of all parents-of-toddlers existence. So let’s laugh about it today. Laughing about our pain helps us get through it. At least until bedtime tonight.

There are three stages to this. What I will describe as earth, purgatory, and heaven.

Earth.

(5:30pm) After a full day of work I arrive home to an intense game of basketball happening. Alright here we go. I jump into this juggling act, I’m an opponent, a mediator, and a shield for my one year old daughter, as she pushes her mower around the court, I’m protecting her from getting hit with the ball. “Pass it, Bub!” They yell at one another. I play the role of mediator, but it doesn’t work. It’s only taken a few minutes and now its tears, anger, and someone storming out promising to never play with you again. My daughter smiles unmoved by this chaotic rant. Then it’s dinner time.

(6pm) This is the meal we work hard on although we know half the time it’s received with complaint. God forbid a green pea is found touching the mashed potatoes. Fun fact, my son hates vegetables (who doesn’t?) so we told him that green peas are beans, and he ate them. Anyways… meal time finishes with messy hands to clean and spills to pick up.

Now what should we do? We did movies the past few nights, so let’s not do that tonight… so we turn on a show, to help us feel a little better about ourselves. One show turns to two shows. Now we’re at 6:45.

We’re getting close. One lap left on our mile run. Then purgatory.

(6:45pm) We play a game. We laugh, and enjoy it, strategically trying to ensure the kid that seems most on edge will win. The things we do to avoid meltdowns… But somehow, a miracle happens and mommy wins. Both kids lose their minds. How has this happened? I literally stacked the deck against mommy. So let’s play another game? Or maybe, lets wrestle? Hide and seek? Anything.

(7:30pm) The time passes and we’re onto brushing teeth time. You know, those 37 seconds where the nextdoor neighbors hear the kids screaming through our walls and theirs, wondering what sort of torture is happening. The teeth are brushed, tears are dried, and it’s time to put on pajamas. My four year old acts like I’ve never asked him to do this before. How does he not know the evening rhythm? How is putting on a dinosaur shirt so complicated?

At this point everyone in the house is wiped out, yet the hardest part hasn't even begun. It’s almost time for the dreaded “B word” to be announced. Wait, what is this? My stomach hurts… “sorry babe, I need to poop. You got this.”

Nah, I’m kidding. Only a jerk would do that.

The “B word” is announced. It’s bedtime Bitches.

Kidding, kidding. Bedtime is the “B word.” I usually don’t cuss at my kids.

Purgatory.

The beaches of Normandy have been breached. Shots are fired. Utter disbelief that bedtime has arrived AGAIN! We just did this yesterday! Whyyyyyyy?!?!?!

This is the point where I stand in awe. I wonder what I fed these children. Have they engulfed a teaspoon of sugar? Screw you Mary Poppins.

Why are they bouncing around like kangaroos? Do they ever get tired?

Finally, they’re in their bed. They are threatened: “Do not come out of your bed, or else…” Inside they chuckle to themselves. It’s begun. Purgatory is in full swing.

All of a sudden they’re hungry. Why? At first I fight it, then realize it’s either fight it and they cry, OR feed them and they quiet down.

Don’t judge me.

(8pm) After their unneeded snack they’re back in bed. My wife and I finally are starting to look and talk to one another. Then we hear, “I’m done!” coming from the bathroom. So I go upstairs and wipe my son’s butt.

We return back to conversation. “Daddy, I’m thirsty.” And once one of our kangaroos find the watering trough the other one hops on down.

We return back to conversation. “Daddy!!” I walk begrudgingly upstairs to a desperate cry wanting to come downstairs and give mommy a hug. That’s hard to resist.

19 interruptions later, and my wife has been purged of all energy.

Heaven.

(8:45pm) She’s arrived to her heavenly peace, fast asleep.

“My day was fine.”

“Goodnight.”

…

(2:30am) “Mommy, I peed my bed.”

I pretend to snore, acting like I didn’t hear that. Why did I give him all that water before bed?