The Bedtime Of Champions

Daylight saving time is wreaking havoc with my little men. I can’t blame them. It’s broad daylight when we put them to bed now. Can you sleep in broad daylight? Okay, so if you’re a mom or a college student or pretty much any of the guys I know or just really tired you can probably fall asleep in almost any situation, but we’re talking about the logic of the toddler mind here. And by logic I mean absolutely no logic present at all.

As I type this, my boys are “sleeping.” This involves Lij screaming rather loudly and occasionally thumping into things in his room. This leads me to believe that he is no longer in his bed.

Side note: The bane of parental existence is the day the child outgrows the restrictive bliss known as the crib. Once liberated, said child can cause all sorts of mayhem. While “sleeping” nonetheless.

And as Lij bounces off things I can hear Dylan comment occasionally. The noise coming from their bedroom sounds a bit like an unruly Olympic figure skating event. There are the sounds of the main performance. And (thrown in for good measure) the somewhat useless, but at times very entertaining, remarks of the just-biding-
my-time-before-they-make-
me-a-judge-or-a-real-
sportscaster-people. Lij is also doing his own music, so the picture is pretty much complete. Except for the fact that right now they’re supposed to be sleeping.

It doesn’t help that Lij got a boo-boo on his chin this evening. A boo-boo that was giving him no grief at dinner or during playtime, but miraculously began to be excruciating as he was being escorted up to bed. That and daddy decided to not be home this evening. At bedtime. It’s not his fault really. Something he couldn’t get out of. But don’t these people know the kind of a delicate balance they’re messing with when they plan a meeting that takes a parent away from toddler bedtime!? Disaster ensues.

Or in my case, the men’s short program.