My best idea

(Originally posted 6/8/2012)

Bedtime. Man, it can really suck. Bedtime with little ones can be tricky, but it’s especially difficult when you’re outnumbered. I frequently spend 2-3 hours running back and forth between rooms, putting out fires. It usually sounds something like this…

“Pee pee on the potty!!!”
                         “Wahhhhhh!”
“I need my bear.”
                        “Waahhhhhhhhhhhhh!!”
“The other bear”
                         “Wahhhhhh!”
“Not THAT bear!!!”
                        “Wahhhhhhhh!”
“Need to do poops”
                        “Wahhh!”
“I sleep with kitty?”
                        “Waahhhhhhh!”
“Sing a song please”
                        “Wahhhhhh!”
“No, an elephant song”
                        “Wahhhhhhhhhh!!!!”
“I want the kitty story.”

You get the idea. I run back and forth nursing, singing, pottying, rocking, reading, blowing noses, bear hunting, pulling my hair out, etc. for what seems like an eternity. Finally, Coco falls asleep. I sing some more to Tyler. He’s quiet and relaxed. I kick the cat out of his room and quietly shut the door. I collapse in the hallway. I hear a noise. I go to check on the baby. Is that poop seeping through his pjs? Or did I put him to bed in pjs that happen to have a big poop stain on the back. *sniff, sniff* Ugh.

And I start again. Luckily it only takes another 30 or so minutes to get him changed, nursed, and snuggled in again.

Feeling defeated and exhausted, I walk downstairs. I start to search the kitchen. What am I looking for? A pat on the back? A high five? Cookies? A bag of chocolate chips? Some gin? And then, I hear a faint noise in the distance.

It sounds something like the ice cream truck, but it’s 9 o’clock at night. Too late for ice cream. It’s getting closer. It’s getting louder. I can make out the music. “She drinks a whiskey drink, she drinks a vodka drink, she drinks a lager drink, she drinks a cider drink…”

I walk outside. I’m wearing my jammies. I have spit up on my shirt. My hair smells like Mexican food. We didn’t even have Mexican food tonight. And what is that crust on my arm? Oh well. There is a truck slowly driving by the house. “I get knocked down, but I get up again…” The sign on the side of the truck says, "Goodnight Moon (shine)."

Yep. It’s like an ice cream truck, but for mommies. And instead of ice cream, it’s filled with drinks. And it circles the neighborhoods after bedtime, providing support and comfort to tired mommies. Oh yeah, and booze.


Disclaimer: No, that didn't actually happen. Well, all the crappy stuff at the beginning did, but there's no booze truck in my neighborhood. Yet.