The boys played HARD this weekend. They were filthy-dirty, covered in mulch and grass. The sunblock seems to be a dirt magnet. My tub has RINGS, folks! I kid you not!
We thought that since they spent the majority of their time outside this weekend, climbing, running, riding bikes, playing with friends, pulling wagons and just generally being kids, they would become EXHAUSTED by bedtime. N.O.T. We thought a warm bath and a good meal in their bellies would be the catalyst for getting them to sleep soundly. W.R.O.N.G.
For some odd reason it was nearly impossible to convince them that the day was done and the mommy and the daddy were tired. All three evenings this weekend were a chore. They were literally bouncing off the walls. The fact that it is still light out when they are crawling under the covers does not help our slumber cause. Since they are up in the wee hours with the roosters and sparrows (and rabbits and the *^&$% squirrels eating my trash) they are not getting much sleep. In fact, we aren't getting much sleep. And who is more important? That's right. Me.
If Momma ain't happy, ain't nobody happy. If I do not receive the required (not desired, required. Let's be honest here!) amount of sleep, I do not function. At all. Add in the cold that has lingered for a month, the second round of antibiotics, the muscle relaxant for my current back issues and it all makes for one tired momma. Eight Hours. I need EIGHT HOURS. I managed to make it through the infant years because Bug Boy sleep every two hours and so did Momma. Bugaboo was one of those dreamy babies who slept seven hours his first night home and kept that up until toddlerhood, when we first suspected the seizures. Even still, he sleeps solidly through the night these days, rarely waking. When he does stir it is for a mere moment and he drifts blissfully back into slumber wrapped in momma's arms with his little feet tucked between my knees.
The past three nights I figured out (because I am a math tutor, and I am good at this stuff) that they have each received a whopping 8.5 hours of sleep a night. Since it takes me over an hour to get through my routine at night, picking up the floors and finishing chores, that leaves me with about seven hours of sleep (this is the Mj version of math we are talking about, if you are lost). I am often up before them to start breakfast or hop in the shower. 8.5 hours is not enough for these active boys. I mean, some boys can function on that. My children cannot. They are beyond reasoning with , super cranky, puffy-eyed, whining and miserable. Every little thing is a major ordeal. Here are some examples:
- Since our niece was with us Saturday evening and we did manual labor for twelve hours, we decided to go our for pizza. Bugaboo normally does well at this local, family-friendly pizza joint that we frequent. At five in the evening (when kids are hungry) the place is dead. Bugaboo even sits most times, but not this time. He insisted on being in the lobby area where the take-out customers wait for their food and wanted to peruse the soda and chip section. He does not drink soda, just molests Pepsi bottles. He then found a brand of chips he recognized (because he is so picky that he can distinguish between brands of food and drinks) and would not give up. To get him to return to the table I handed him a small, blue bag of chips. He seemed satisfied. We got to the table, he had a meltdown in the booth (luckily there were only two little old ladies giving me the hairy eyeball that evening, I may have flipped them the bird). He dragged me BACK to the chips and sat and felt up the bags. After picking up three or four and hurling them behind his back, he finally found the color bag he wanted. RED. Never mind that he has never in his life had a ruffled potato chip. Tonight he was going to open that red bag at all costs. And we did. Upon returning to the table he parked himself on teh booth bench, reclining with his chips. I could not move him. I ended up sitting at the end of the table on a chair. At least he was quiet. Until he climbed under the table and ate things off of the floor. Things we did not order. Ewwwwww...
- We go to TJs every week (sometimes more, because I am addicted to that place). There is this great guy there who makes balloon animals for the kids and always remembers their names. Bug Boy loves to go in with me (while Darling stays in the car with Bugaboo because Bugaboo hates to food shop) and loves getting a balloon animal or light saber, whatever is being twisted that day. We arrived at home and it was nearly bed time so Bug Boy put the animal down in order to get ready for bed. He put it down. On the floor. We have a dog. You know, with claws? Yup...let's just say that a three-hour bedtime battle ensued. He could not go to bed without a balloon animal! It was important! He would NEVER fall asleep without it! He is staying up ALL NIGHT! ALL NIGHT! He was NEVER going to bed again! We had to drive RIGHT BACK TO TJ'S!!!
- More examples: Bugaboo insisting on being barefoot with no pants but had to have his winter coat on. In 80 degree weather. Bug Boy wanting to wear flip flops to church. Bug Boy sneaking binoculars into church and was surprised at my reaction. Bugaboo climbing up and bringing me every single one of his clean, empty cups from the cabinet when I told him he couldn't have more juice. Bug Boy wanting chocolate chip pancakes for dinner. Cold. Bugaboo wanting M&Ms for dinner. It got better and better all weekend.
Can we reverse daylight savings time. Pleeeease?