Three In the Bed

You Are Always On My Mind

There are those days (so many, many of those days) when things don't go well and you basically thank the Lord that you in fact even made it out of the house. On these particular days if it wasn't generally frowned upon to completely lose your mind and send your children to preschool in their pajamas whilst eating cold pizza and yourself to work doing the same - actually, you truly would skip work these days and bury yourself so far under the duvet they would need thermal body scanning to actually find you. Alas, you pull through, you muddle along but a bad day, it just sticks with you (like a two year old at a big kids birthday party).

So here's my Ode to 80's moms, care of Pet Shop Boys - I couldn't get this song out of my head today while thinking of my morning and my tug of war with a toddler...

You Are Always On My Mind

Maybe I didn't treat you quite as good as I should

            (If treat = homemade organic oatmeal cookies)

Maybe I didn't love you quite as often as I could

            (It’s hard at 3am when you wake me from a George Clooney dream)

Little things I should've said and done, I never

took the time

            (We will make princess party hats like you saw on tv)

You were  ARE always on my mind

You were ARE always on my mind

Maybe I didn't hold you all those lonely, lonely

Times

            (Again, you have this thing for knowing when I am dreaming about Clooney)

And I guess I never told you (this morning), I'm so happy that

you're mine

If I made you feel second best (to my blackberry) I'm so sorry, I

was blind

You were  ARE always on my mind

You were ARE always on my mind

 Tell me, tell me that your sweet love hasn't died (because it is so sweet)

Give me one more chance to keep you satisfied

Satisfied (as best a three year old can be…)

The Seven Stages of Bed Time

 

There is perhaps no greater obstacle in a parent's day than bedtime. Of course, there is that smug clan of parents who can't relate to bedtime burdens. It's lights out by 7pm, kitchen clean by 7:30 and then pop open a nice Chardonnay and watch Dancing With the Stars. To you I say solemnly, we can't be friends. I have parenting esteem issues as it is and either you are cashing in on some previous life karma or you share that Chardonnay with the kids. 

Anyway, I got to thinking the other night during another round of bedtime drama that there is a rather good connection between the stages of bedtime and the stages of grief. Here are my observations.

Stage One: Shock & Denial.

OMG, is that the time!?! That can't be the right time...

Stage Two: Pain & Guilt.

I am a terrible parent. My children will be obese and have poor brain development because I have de-prioritized their  twelve hours of sleep. 

Stage Three: Anger & Bargaining

Get to bed - now! now! now! Yes, you can wear your cinderella dress with a cowboy hat to bed and hot fudge sundaes for breakfast, just get in bed - NOW!

Stage Four: Depression & Loneliness

Eat hot fudge sundae alone in the kitchen and contemplate what a normal family is and what time they may go to bed at.

Stage Five: The Upward Turn

Wine.

Stage Six: Reconstruction & Working Through

Google "how to get kids to bed" while drinking wine.

Stage Seven: Acceptance & Hope

I will never get to watch Dancing With The Stars alone with a glass of Chardonnay. There is hope however, for some tivo and tequila...