The Wisdom of Our Elders

I'm beginning to understand why the Victorians were so comfortable dosing their babies with laudanum to get some rest. I mean, I'd never do it, but I can understand the motivation. Don't be too quick to judge me. Really, I have two little boys who seem to only require sleep on an occasional basis, and seem to think that going to bed at night is about as fun as slipping into an acid bath. I need to be clear here. I am not looking for advice. I'm just using my blog as a space to complain. If you have helpful advice, feel free to...um, keep it to yourself.

So last night, Mr. Dog had to go back to the lab to finish up an experiment leaving me to put the boys to bed solo. Usually this isn't a big deal, but Little Dog decided to sleep in yesterday. He slept until 11am like some kind of high school student on summer vacation, then just didn't feel tired until far too late. (This will not be happening again. NE has been instructed to roust the little slacker out of bed every morning at a more sane hour.) Once I finally made the boys jammie up, and got them into their room, I thought I'd made the first moves toward slumber. Ha. Two hours of struggle later, I'd successfully ushered Big Dog off to sleepland, but Little Dog was still pulling out all of his best stalling tactics.

"Mama, I need milk!" "Mama, I need rocks" (they'd been playing rocks scissors paper, in case you were wondering.) "Mama, I need to go upstairs!"

I broke. I told him to get into his bed and go to bed. Since he obviously didn't need me, I was going to bed. Goodnight. And I walked out, leaving a very stunned 2.5 year old in my wake.

Mr. Dog came home about that time and managed to wrangle the little monster angel into bed. He finally got him to fall asleep sometime around midnight. Yeah, I did say midnight.

Maybe now you'll understand why I'm beginning to think the Victorians were onto something. Sigh.