Around 9 pm we usually start shuffling the kids off to bed. Bedtime is one of the only times my boys willingly put on clothes. They have jammies in all different kinds of super heroes, cute right? Of course! Once they are in their jammies you have two tiny ninja wannabe’s bouncing racecar bed to racecar bed shouting things like “boom shakalaka” or if Beau is screaming it “Boom mothafocka”. Eventually though they do settle down. With the boys in their room and Tillie in her crib we have peace for a little while. That’s when we break out the candy stash, dig into the good ice cream and watch television for adults. I never appreciated free time like I should have before children. This is bliss.
Around midnight we drag ourselves into bed and sleep for like an hour. Then Tillie is up and needs a bottle. I run around mixing water and formula and because she is a slow eater she ends up in our bed. Maybe an hour later Beau gets up and starts cruising the house, he eventually shows up next to my side of the bed whispering loudly over and over again “mommy, mommy, mom, mommy”. I play dead. He keeps whispering, now poking me in the face. I look over at him and loudly whisper “daddy is on the other side, go to the other side.” He just looks at me. “daddy has candy.” He darts over to the other side of the bed to harass his other parent. Nic picks up Beau and a few minutes later he’s asleep on his chest. Next Conner will come in looking for Beau, he’s afraid without him. I prod Nic in the ribs so he wakes up and carries sleeping Beau back to his bed. I put Tillie back in her crib. We sleep another hour or two and Beau is back. I’m too tired to deal with it, I scoop him up and toss him in between me and Nic . He is all over the place his elbow is in my ribs, his feet are in Nic’s face, I’m pretty sure his body temperature is a million degrees, and damn can that kid drool. Conner has a nightmare and comes in crying saying “mom, I was a stick, A STICK! It was terrible.” He camps out on the floor next to our bed and then there’s peace for a few hours. Until Nic’s alarm goes off and I wake up holding Tillie and pressing a bottle of formula into the front of my neck. She must have cried but I don’t remember getting her or making a bottle and I’m soaked in formula.
I drag myself out of bed covered in formula, spit up, and Beau drool and start making a pot of coffee.