Bedtime Boogie Monster

I am among the lucky few whose Husband does the bedtime routine. It is fabulous. I count myself blessed. Trust me. But it becomes a problem say, if he's gone for ten days hiking in the wilderness. We are all tired. We are all cranky from not having enough sleep. This is because my children are not scared of me.

I need a glass of water.

Okay.

I need another story.

Okay.

I need a hug and a miss (kiss).

Okay, okay, okay... until I think I'm gonna lose it.

I can yell. To which Scrunch yells back, "Quit yelling at me!! Why are you so mad!?"

I can calmly and rationally explain. To which she calmly and rationally out-explains me in return.

Round and round until she tells me she's tired and is going to bed and I bang my head against the wall.

I don't want them to fear me per se, but being afraid of me or what I might do if you get out of bed for the thousandth time might be a good thing. I am going to sit here and work on my "So help me if you get out of that bed one more time!! Face."

I know, I know. An effective wooden spoon comes with slats. Mine doesn't have slats, but I love my Pampered Chef wooden spoons all the same.


Begging....Pleading....

Bribery. I would never give my child a Snicker's bar for going to bed. No really. I wouldn't. Those are MINE for when she's finally asleep!

OK, so this isn't really working. All I am doing is scaring myself. I'm sure it is not having a single effect on my sternness as the bedtime enforcer. I didn't think it would. I'm just trying to avoid going through the pile of crap sitting behind me in all the pictures.