Sunday, September 9, 2007

It's Sunday night... Do you know why your kids won't sleep?

I hate bedtime. Hate it hate it hate it. I had just gotten Claire (who is unusually fussy these days, due to teething) to sleep, when BJ got MG out of the tub, and she came screaming into the room and woke Claire up. It was all I could do not to tan her little behind. Sometimes I have to just chant, "We don't spank. We don't spank, even when we really REALLY want to..."

I really hate bedtime.

In other news, we went to Monty's birthday party today. It was really fun. He was awfully cute with the cake. He looked like a smurf by the end of it, with all the blue icing. And his mom, Jenny, served lots and lots of chocolate, and things dipped in chocolate, and chocolate covered chocolate, so it was my kind of party. I skipped the cake and went straight for the good stuff.

It's a good thing that she and I are both married, or I'd be proposing over the truffles she made. Mmmmmm....

MG went to her first Local College Football game yesterday. The good guys kicked butt. She had fun, even though they only saw the first quarter due to inclement weather. It was the first rain delay at our Local College Stadium since like 1989, or something ridiculous. (And if stalkers are college football enthusiasts, we'd better lock the doors...)

But seriously, I've had it with bedtime and if she doesn't start sleeping, I'm going to get a big cast iron frying pan and I'm going to konk her in the head with it every night after dinner. Hey, it worked on the cartoons. That's my last hope. I haven't had a good night's sleep since November of 2004, people, I'm desperate, here.

P.S. Happy Birthday Barbie!!

1 comment:

Jen said...

Put her in her bed. Lock the door. Do not enter. The end. She can't cry forever, and it'll only be traumatic (more so for you) for a few days. When she realizes you are not going to remove her to nurse, get a drink, read a story, have a hug, whatever, she'll go to sleep. Let BJ and Claire go to a hotel (better yet, you and Claire go to a hotel) and be done with it. Let her know you are there, just outside the door, but do not go back in till it's time to get up, unless you're certain the room is on fire...let her fit, throw up whatever... she'll live.
It's time.