I should have known I was in for an interesting evening when brother and sister hunched around the trash can to peel their clementines together. While humming Stars and Stripes Forever at the top of their respective lungs. Another clue I was currently residing in an alternate universe centered on how Her Majesty has been singing a variety of songs to the tune of the Peaches and Herb classic: Shake Your Groove Thing. We started with “It’s April Fool’s Day, April Fool’s Day…yeah,yeah” and progressed to “I am awesome, I am awesome..yeah, yeah” to “Take my shoes off, take my shoes off…yeah,yeah.” It is possible I have exposed my children to entirely too much disco. I blame Pandora.
Anyhoo, the littlest one took her turn at Just Dance and went to the bathroom willingly only to request a “manzana” immediately after her bath. How better to stall a former Spanish teacher than to demonstrate you’ve learned a new word in Spanish? I, of course, caved and let her have an apple. The Hobbit fixed his own cereal then went to the bathroom with considerably more prodding. He, of course, had to see a man about a horse. Why equine negotiations can’t take place at another time of day, I don’t know. I suppose I could scout out the stables to see if the deal was legit, but I really didn’t want to. By the time he emerged, I was trying to dry Her Majesty’s hair. At this point, he had to poke his little sister until she giggled causing her to move around and making it very hard to dry her hair. Even better, the two of them started singing her rendition of You are My Sunshine. You know, the one that includes the verse “you smack me happy when skies are gray.” Much playful smacking ensued.
I threatened him to within an inch of his life and he jumped in the shower, but I still had to brush Her Majesty’s teeth. While I wrestled with the toothpaste cap, she flung back the shower curtain to hear her brother squeal like a girl. At some point anti-Justin Bieber sentiment was also expressed. Why that came up in the bathroom, I’ll never know.
Now, here’s the kicker: before she went to bed, Her Majesty WILLINGLY started picking up toys without being asked. Again, it’s really late and she needs to be in bed, but what am I supposed to say? Quit cleaning your room? I think not. I have prayed for this day. I had not, however, prayed she would be singing Rick Astley as she cleaned. (If you haven’t seen Beaker as Rick Astley, you really must) Just as I get her settled into bed, the Hobbit emerges wearing nothing but a towel and shouting “To-ga party! To-ga! To-ga! To-ga!” I have to chase him from the room amidst Her Majesty’s giggles. In retrospect, I probably should have at least paused to complement him on his creative over-the-shoulder fastening of said toga/towel, but I guess I’m just not a good mother.
By that point, I knew I needed to write all of this down so I came in and started to type. I realized it was quiet. Too quiet. I went to turn off The Hobbit’s light, and he asks oh-so politely, “Can I please finish the last chapter?” Foiled again! Not only am I sucker for reading, but he’s reading a classic—The Time Machine—and he knows I know he needs to take more AR tests at school. So here I am typing while he is finishing his chapter. Here I go to hopefully put the last Dawdlekid to bed….
And, miraculously, he has finished the book and is ready for bed. It’s 9:08, at least 30 minutes later than when the two of them should be in bed. If anyone had told me having children would be, at times, akin to living in an episode of The Muppet Show, I would have laughed in her face. But I would have been wrong.
And if you think this is some kind of elaborate April Fool’s joke, you, too, are wrong. I’m a writer, and I can’t make this sh*t up.
That. Is. Awesome! Mine went to bed willingly tonight, too, without umpteen gazillion potty breaks (he's potty training, so what am I supposed to say when he comes at me with, "I gotta go pee-pee in the potty"?).
ReplyDeleteUh-oh. I fear there will be a potty incident tonight. I shall pray that you avoid it.
ReplyDeleteSweetly hysterical. How did mothers raise their kids before there were blogs? And now it's time we all went to sleep. Thanks for the bedtime story, Sally. You always make me smile. :)
ReplyDeleteSally, you really are a super. writer. mom. Thanks for sharing this rahter hysterical story. I only pray I can hold onto humor when mine gets a little older. -Lindy
ReplyDeleteSally, you are clearly doing everything right. Believe me, your investment with these two now is going to pay off big time down the road. When you know your kids the way you know yours and they trust you the way yours do, the stage is set for a real relationship when they are teenagers and adults. So hang in there! Meanwhile, continue to enjoy this time; it is obvious that you do! :-)
ReplyDeleteLinsey, that's the sweetest thing you could have said to me. Usually, I write down the wacky goings on around here because I think someone, somewhere might get a kick out of it.
ReplyDeleteAw, Lindy, you are being too kind. I'm always a Mom. Sometimes I get to write. Rarely is anything really "super" as far as my room mom duties or house cleaning.
ReplyDeleteAnd you have to hang on to the humor. That's what keeps you from losing your mind. Think of it as blackmail stories for late in life.
Pam, thanks for the reassurance. I have always hoped to have great relationships with my kids as teenagers as well as when they're little. As a high school teacher, I sat in on too many conferences with parents who were clearly at the end of their rope. Often, a mother would say I just wish he'd stayed little. I just can't imagine that mentality. When they start talking and carrying on, things get really interesting. As you can see.
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