Ah, after bath time finds us once again. Two small boy children running naked through the house proclaiming for me, Dad, and the Dog that they are, indeed, naked babies. Towels are shed on the floor as they run from bathroom to living room. What shall we do they telepathically ask each other. Stand for all the neighborhood to see in our floor to ceiling front window? Go get in the fridge and open a package of pepper jack and decide it's "on fire?" Throw a hard plastic object directly at the head of my brother? All viable answers to the never ending dilemma of what to do.
Now the magic begins. How do I get diapers and pajamas on these tasmanian devils masquerading as toddlers? Threats, bribery, and finally physical force. Why do we repeat the same things every single night? My boys are smart little boys, surely they know by now that there are some things you do not do. They've been told these things repeatedly tonight, not to mention all the other nights of their little lives that I have told them the same damn thing only to turn around 2 seconds later to find them standing on top of a Sit & Spin precariously close to the top of the stairs so they can flip the light switch up and down until the light bulb blows.
After I have asked for the 20th time with absolutely no result my voice gets loud and get that bat shit crazy vibe going. I am yelling, one or both boys are crying and then someone kicks me in the face when I'm struggling to cover up their privates with a diaper. After I threaten the kicker, the other boy usually comes up to me of his own volition and says "Me not naughty." Then lies down to put on his diaper. Nice mom, terrify your child into compliance.
I just want bed time to be peaceful. After the tears, fits and threats we all sit in Mommy's chair and snuggle. Yep, they still love me, even after all that. They are forgiving little sweethearts when they want to be. They are absolute terrors at other times. I love them all the time, but I just want a sign that they are listening.
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