Rex, Rocky, Vivi, and Billy                                                                            

Bedtime, Shmedtime.

Bedtime, Shmedtime.

So, here is how the nightly routine has been going for the last few months.

5:45pm:  Bottle to Rocky's face
6:00pm:  Put Rocky in crib, fussing
6:15pm: Rocky asleep

(Ohhhhh, save it! I didn't sleep for nine months with this child and he should be fucking tired because he scales my windows all day.)

6:30pm: TV shows for Rex/Dinner for Matt and I
7:00pm: Brush teeth, tell a truck story, Rex to bed
7:10pm: #VodkaBravoBye

Now, for the past two weeks, Rex has started to fall a little outta line.  Bed time has been so easy for him, always (minus maybe a one-week hiccup along the way).  And while Rocky remains struggle-free (for the moment), bedtime with Rexy is suddenly looking little more like this...

6:30pm:  TV show For Rex/Dinner for Matt and I
7:00pm: Brush teeth, tell a truck story, Rex to bed
7:10pm: Rex crying, pleading, negotiating
7:15pm: One more show
7:30pm: One more show
7: 45pm: One more show
8:00pm: One more story
8:05pm: One more story
8:10pm: One more story
8:15pm: I lay with him forever without vodka

I'm a fucking sucker.  He knows it, too.  "Mommy, I am scared.  I think there are monsters in here."  Oh no you fucking don't!  But wait, what if you do?  I don't want you to be scared!  Fine.  I will lay here.

But now I really need to go.  Mama needs some kid-less time!  "But mommy, can you please stay with me?"  Oh, come on! I never thought I would be soft.  Then I had these idiots.  I instantly flash forward to years from now when he isn't laying with me and doesn't need me around.  SHIT!  I must lay with him! I must soak in this time and breath in his weird breath and watch him shuffle around while he tries to get comfortable.  I must have no boundaries before it's too late!!!

Last night he woke up at 9:30pm.  "MOMMY!!!!!!"  I run in.  His lights are all on and he is sitting in his rocking chair.  "Mom, I want marshmallows.  And my knees are itchy."  "Rex, that doesn't even make sense."  "Yes it does make sense!"  Crying.
After a story, some water, and a lot of laying and rubbing his back, he is back to sleep.  But, what the hell!  My DVR'd episodes of Bachelor in Paradise aren't going to watch themselves!  This is kid is encroaching on my precious (and basically, only) adult time!

I'm not really looking for a solution, since I try to tell myself that everything is just a weird phase anyway that he will eventually grow out of before I could ever "fix" it with my magical mom powers.  So per usual, I'm just here to bitch about it.  Sue me.

And wanna here the most effed up part?  When he is back to running straight to bed without prolonged snuggles and without middle of the night "Mom!" requests, you know what I will likely be doing?  Crying and feeling sad that he doesn't need me and that I am missing out on my nightly Mom and Rex time.  Yeah.  Because moms are fucked . And that's all.

"Shit. Call Dad.  Tell Him to Saw the Door Off."

"Shit. Call Dad. Tell Him to Saw the Door Off."

Making It Magical

Making It Magical