The Mischief of Minions

Kids, Family, Insanity…

Letting Sleeping Children Lie


20121230-151008.jpg

I am writing on my phone, lying in bed next to an obnoxiously snoring little girl wearing her Christmas outfit from last year. (I have no idea where she found it.)

At my feet on the quilt is a happily snoozing pug – also snoring.
20121230-151616.jpg

My son is asleep in his crib about 25 feet down the hall. I cannot hear him, but I can only assume similar noises are coming from his baby face.

The sun is shining brightly, I am still in my pajamas. My shining accomplishments today include getting the children to nap at the same time and making a wonderful pot of homemade chicken soup.

20121230-152011.jpg

Ah. Today goes in the “WIN” column for sure!!

Advertisement
Leave a comment »

Bedtime anguish – can you help me? Please?


So cute when she’s sleeping -but so hard to get her to sleep!

Seriously, this is ridiculous. The pain of knowing I am losing a war with a three-year-old is humiliating. And costly. I am an awful parent. My daughter has giant black circles under her eyes. WE have giant black circles under our eyes.

When it was just one child, things were easier. I had more hands. I had more patience. We could attempt the bedtime routine thing with books and music and it was enough. It isn’t anymore.

I admit it: I struggle somewhat with structure in my own life. I know that I should start putting her to bed at 7:30pm, walk her to her room, get her into her pajamas, brush her teeth and read a book.

But when I get home at 7pm from work, that makes it hard: I want to see my kid; I want her to know me. So we play. We dance. We color. We talk. We eat. I lose track of time with frequency in the midst of having some quality time with my family.

But even when I try to get her in bed by like 8:30pm? It’s a battle. And we’ve been weak: we’ve let her go to her room and read books on her own. On occasion, she’s managed to slip into bed with an iPhone and play games. We’ve done whatever we could do to keep her away from her brother long enough for him to actually go to sleep, and it is backfiring miserably.

She gets jealous that he is getting the attention. She cries, she yells, she bargains; we threaten, we wheedle and cajole. Last night, I found her downstairs watching the TV we had left on, bug-eyed because it was a seriously scary show and the poor thing couldn’t look away.

I’m near the end of patience with what to do. I’m out of ideas.

I am pulling out my already predominantly gray hair (you know, under the awesome highlights). So this is a plea: Readers, those of you kind enough to read my musings and struggles, how do I fix this? How do I solve the bedtime problem before she hits puberty??

Please, your comments and wisdom and advice are desperately needed!

6 Comments »

A Perfect Moment



Frozen in time, a glimpse of tiny perfection in a moment where I am actually sitting and appreciating you. Your beautiful lips, your red-blonde lashes, the warmth of your tiny head and your visage of total relaxation and comfort.

Your squishy elbows and milky-white skin; your soft breathing and baby hair curling with sweat: your sculpted curving cheeks amaze me; the way you turn yourself so trustingly into my body gives me peace.

In this moment, you are still mine, wrapped in my arms. These seconds go too fast, and you are growing far too quickly for my liking. I search your face trying to memorize each tiny piece – each nook and cranny – because by tomorrow it will have changed.

My little boy, you are precious beyond words to me. You are all that is perfect and good with the world, and one of my greatest blessings.

In a short while, you will either be howling with laughter or screaming your head off because I left your milk in the kitchen; in a year you will be driving me crazy with your demands and talking back to me. You will likely throw trucks at my head, kick your sister and torment the dog. And that’s all ok: I look forward to your growth and the mystery of who you will become.

But allow me to enjoy this moment where you are peaceful, and sleeping and mostly potential. I am so grateful to be here with you! I love you forever, little boy. May your dreams be beautiful.

Leave a comment »

%d bloggers like this: