We knew it would be a difficult few nights, since Jason is out of town for a loooong and extended leisurely trip to Gatlinburg for “work.” Sure, uh-huh, everybody knows that Gatlinburg is mountain party central, and while I slave away trying to get uncooperative three-year-olds to sleep, he is probably living it up ice skating or flying down some mountain on a slide. Not really, but hey, if he reads this, I want him to think I’m smack in the middle of working toward a really, really good nap next weekend when he’s home.
Any-hoo, we sort of have a process at bedtime, which is good for the little guys, since they would prefer to just have the run of the place until they finally drop from exhaustion at midnight. I say No-Way, José to that! No toddler of mine is going to stay up one minute past 11:30! (I’m kidding, for any of the mommies out there who were horrified to read that.)
So, bedtime. The boys get a drink, get their pants changed (because we still enjoy peeing in them as often as possible), and oh yeah, we pretend to go potty, but not really. Then we head upstairs for a short movie session, during which time the hope is that they will begin to calm down and be ready to sleep. Also, the hope is that if they are watching their movie, Mommy will not lose her mind completely and will have a few minutes of down time.
Up the stairs we marched. And I almost forgot, they both have to “hide” in the exact same closet every night, and I have to spend an acceptable amount of time looking for them and pretending that I can’t find them. When we finally made it to their room, I began to mess with the television/dvd combo that has to be as old as my grandma, and I realized on that first night of Jason being out of town that he left me with a broken-down, limping-along dvd player that has better chances of becoming a step-stool than actually playing a movie. After approximately 20 times of turning the machine on and then off…and then on…and then off, it finally decided to read the dvd that is permanently inside the machine.
Ok, we were off to a decent start! The movie was playing, and all I had to do was tuck them in and turn on the nightlight. That would be the evil nightlight that doesn’t work anymore, yes, that one. Evidently, the boys have decided that the best possible place they could stuff wadded up paper is inside the bulb of the light. Yes, inside the bulb. My mommy brain started screaming STOP! DROP! AND ROLL! and ran through all the various ways we might escape our house when it goes up in flames, but on the outside I remained calm. I made sure there was currently no more paper in the bulb, reassembled the nightlight, plugged it in…only to hear POP! And poof, just like that the one single piece of equipment that would probably have the best hope of promising me a restful night just quit. Broke. Caput. Done. No more nightlight.
But alas, no problem, because I simply explained to the boys that it was broken and that we would have to get a new one tomorrow. I know, a very logical solution, right? Wrong-O. Jadon was not feeling logical in the least and demanded a light. Right now. Jay-Jay scared.
Okay, okay, so in a pinch I came up with the idea of leaving the hallway bathroom light on, which would have worked beautifully, had that not been the one and only night my 15-year-old needed to go to the bathroom half a dozen times. Each time he went in there, he did his business and then turned the light off. And each time he did this, it only took Jadon about 5 minutes to realize that his light was gone and that he had once again been wronged by the entire world.
I marched down the hallway about 6 or 8 times last night because he was scared, and I patted his little head, tucked him back in, and gave that little nightlight a dirty look each and every time I went in there. Had I known I would be on hallway light duty, I would have skipped my evening dose of Nyquil and opted for a stuffy noise, scratchy throat, sniffling, sneezing night.
Tonight on the way home from work, I shall stop and attempt to purchase truly childproof nightlights, you know, like the kind they might issue in prison…if prisoners got nightlights, which I doubt they do. But that kind. And a lot of them.