Big Brother to the Rescue...

I find myself packing for camp with Boy9 again.

But this time I am prepared.

Patience set to maximum. Tolerance turned up to eleven.

I am ready for Boy9...

Right, you need two pairs of socks

Boy9: 'What?'

Socks. Two pairs. No not those on your feet... Behind you in the draw

Boy9: <Rummages in socks and pants draw>

Boy9: <Shrugs> 'There's none in there'

There are at least five pairs as I put them there myself... <Gives look>

Boy9: <More rummaging>

[Single sock coming flying through the air]

[Another lands on my head]

[Two more in opposite corners of the room]

We need them here <Points at rucksack>

Boy9: 'Oh...' <Collects all four socks together>

They are all odd?

Boy9: 'That's fine!'

Yeah I don't care if you are wearing odd socks.. I just don't understand how they got separated? I know I put them in, in pairs

Boy9: <Looks suspicious>

Have you been depairing socks that I've put away? Do you actually do that?

Boy9: 'Come on! We need to pack...'

...

Fine. Two pairs of pants...

Boy9: <Shrugs> 'There's none...'

Try again...

[Two pairs of pants land on my head]

...

<Turns tolerance up to twelve>

(BabyBoy3’s current talking and walking volume settings)

Whilst me and Boy9 pack for his trip.

BabyBoy3 is giving Team Parent (yay!) the runaround over bed time.

Miss6 went to bed without fuss and was crashed out in minutes. Bless her littleness.

However I am million percent sure the last thing she said before falling asleep was 'I'm not tired'...

Miss6: 'I'm not tired'

Yeah you are

Mrs. Amazing: 'Yes you are'

Miss6: 'I AM NOT!!! ARHGGHHGGHHGH'

Miss6: <Throws colouring on the floor>

Miss6: <Rages and sulks for ten minutes>

Miss6: <Falls asleep>

BabyBoy3 is also tired.

He keeps walking into things. A classic sign for tiredness and drunkenness. And there's no way he's drunk, on only two shots.

As I leave BabyBoy3's room and say good night, stay in your bed, go straight to sleep, do not pass go, it is bedtime, no running about, no charging up and down the hallway, sleep is what you want and what we want, goto sleep. In my best sleepy time voice obv.

I say it with confidence. Confident that my littlest boy, pooped out, will soon succumb to sleep.

I am a fool.

Mrs. Amazing meanwhile heads out into the night.

Mrs. Amazing: ‘Freedom!!!  Freedom!!!’

As she is off teaching her axe throwing class.

Leaving me Boy9 to help pack for camp and put to sleep.  And BabyBoy3 to convince to sleep. Again.

[Sounds of BabyBoy3 running about, not asleep]

Amazingly the packing goes well.

Boy9 is helpful. I send Boy9 off to find what he needs. Whilst I relax on Boy9's bed playing on my phone. Putting BabyBoy3 back to bed whenever he is running about.

Sometimes taking whatever toy he has found away. Sometimes not.

Putting him back under his sheets. Sometimes on top. I mix it up.

But my focus is on Boy9.

BabyBoy3 can wait. I cannot sit outside of this door and watch Boy9 pack.

There's no telling what Boy9 might pack without supervision.

My plan is simple.

Ignore BabyBoy3 and get Boy9 settled first.

As BabyBoy3 is finding bedtime a brilliant fun game at the moment. And it doesn't really matter what we do. He giggles and laughs about everything. Then gets back up and plays some more.

Take a toy away and he just gets another to play with. Or if you manage to find something that he really, really wants, and take it. Then BabyBoy3 cries a bit, then gets out of bed and goes looking for it. Giggling.

Nope. It's easier to ignore him and then pick him up where ever he has crashed out.

Simples.

Boy9 is ready for bed.

I start reading him a chapter from The Sea of Monsters (An excellent Percy Jackson book). Whilst ignoring any sounds from BabyBoy3's room as he rearranges his toys and furniture.

[Thud-thud-thud]

I glance up and BabyBoy3 is stood at Boy9's door kicking it. Not hard. Just his little leg swinging back and forth.

I get up and BabyBoy3 hears me and runs back to his bed. Hides under his sheets. Giggling.

As he's in bed there's not much for me to do.

I return to Boy9 and continue reading.

[Thud-thud-thud]

Boy9 is giggling and waving back at BabyBoy3. I tell him to stop and not to encourage him.

[Thud-thud-thud]

[Ominous silence]

I glance up from the book expecting to see BabyBoy3 stood in front of me.

But instead all I can see is his little hand reaching into Boy9's room. Under his bookshelves. Then his hand is gone and BabyBoy3 thuds off back to his room...

Boy9: 'He took one of my toys!'

... Did he? Which one?

Boy9: 'Don't know. I want it back'

Do you need it right now? <Frowny face>

Boy9: '... Suppose not'

Right choice...

I continue reading.

Hoping that with stolen treasure BabyBoy3 will now play in his bed and then fall asleep.

[SCRAPE-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD]

[SCRAPE-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD]

I stop reading.

The noise is too much and will wake Miss6. And that would be terrible.

I find BabyBoy3 running a stolen toy car along the radiators. He sees me and legs it back to his room. Giggling.

I chase after him and take the toy out of his hands. And then throw it onto a high shelf.

I am quite chanked off by now. My tolerance all used up.

BabyBoy3 cries about the toy. But I ignore him and head back to Boy9.

Leaving BabyBoy3 to wail, ideally, himself to sleep.

It's at this point whilst I am reading to Boy9.

That Boy9 somehow manages to fall over, whilst laying down, on top of me. And elbow me in the face and knock the book out of my hands.

I am not best pleased.

What on earth are you doing???

Boy9: <Shrugs>

Are you listening to me read? Coz that seems to me to be bare minimum you should be doing whilst I read? To you! <Gives look>

Boy9: '...'

And… <Gives big eyes look>

Boy9: '... What?'

<Prompting voice> Sorry Daddy for falling on you, and elbowing you in the face...

Boy9: 'Yeah what you said'

<Gives look> <Is secretly proud>

[Door slamming noise from BabyBoy3]

...

<Anger escalates>

Then the doorbell rang.

I run downstairs. And it's our lovely neighbours come to baby sit. I hadn't told them we didn't need them this week. Crap.

I say a thousand sorries (??) and run back upstairs.

Where I find BabyBoy3 moving a speaker into his room...

BabyBoy3: 'Me music!'

(Things to do rather than going to sleep #678: Move speakers into room)

Very cute and sweet.

But also pretty annoying when he was put to bed an hour ago. I trot him back to bed.

And promise he can show me his music tomorrow.

I finally finish reading to Boy9.

And wish him good night, light off, see you in the morning.

Boy9 goes utterly silly and refuses to go to bed or turn his light off. He lays sideways in his bed with his bum in the air.

My temper is now dangerously close to exploding. I wish Boy9 a gritted good night and just leave and head downstairs.

And then sit on the sofa playing stupid games on my phone.

To calm down.

All my lovely tolerance and patience has been utterly eroded by those two rat bags. I can still hear BabyBoy3 bouncing about in his room. My room. The bathroom.

He's really not got this going to bed thing.

I hear Boy9 get up and go to the toilet.

Which is fine. Except I spent an hour putting him to bed! <Grumbles>

But I am not worried about Boy9. He will go to sleep eventually. He may nip down stairs to see me a few times beforehand. But if he is wise. He will not.

(He was wise).

BabyBoy3 however.

Is now in my room. I can hear his feet thudding about through the ceiling.

I go up and put him back to bed again. I shut his door and then wait five seconds.

I open his door and he has already got out of bed and is playing Lego on the floor.

He sees me and dives back into bed. Giggling.

I try to tell him how disappointed I am, that he hasn't gone to sleep. How it's bad behaviour. How my all of chank is very definitely offed.

I try my best to guilt him into staying in his bed. But it feels utterly wrong.

Ans I can't do it anyway. Because he's three and he doesn’t understand.

BabyBoy3 is still smiling and giggling away at me. His Dad, who he loves, and looks up to.

OMFB! What on earth am I trying to do?

<Is disgusted with self>

So I resort to my old desperate, badly thought out, ways.

I don't really know why. I'd just dodged one bullet. Anyway...

I start taking his toys away. He cries. I ignore him and hide all his toys in my room.

BabyBoy3 chases me back and forth as I take his toys. I put him back to bed.

I'm stressed right out and knowing I am being an idiot. But I can’t stop.

I stomp off downstairs and I can hear BabyBoy3 leave his bed and start moving his toys back to his room. Well into a line towards his room.

I explode (internally).

(Things to do rather than going to sleep #48973: Line up toys)

(Note the train string is in line, the nutter)

It is now nine o'clock in the evening.

I've been putting children to bed for two hours. And I started that the moment I got home from work. I haven't even had a cup of tea.

I sit downstairs and ignore BabyBoy3 for a bit longer. For both of our safety.

Until I crack and am just storming upstairs when the doorbell rings again.

What the [Obsenities] emu-smeg now!!!

I don't recognise the car through the window.

And I am ready to be quite annoyed at whoever is at the door. Should they not have a good reason to be knocking on my door. I rip the door open and it's my BiggestBrother (I have three).

With a smile and a present for me.

My anger dissipates.

It’s lovely to see his smiling face. With present. It's nice to see another adult. It's so see someone that doesn't need putting to bed. It's nice to see someone that needs nothing from me.

BiggestBrother asks how’s it's going.

I'm pretty sure my eye was twitching a lot as I said 'not great'...

A smidge of trouble getting BabyBoy3 to sleep, to be honest...

Hey? You don't fancy having a try do you?

BiggestBrother: ' Yeah alright...!' <Enters house>

And upstairs big brother stomped.

Shoes still on, thudding up the stairs. He's a fair bit bigger in frame than me too. He sounds like at least four or five of me on the stairs (Which reflects more on my size than his).

I hear his deep Dad voice deployed on BabyBoy3. I hear BabyBoy3 firmly being told to go to sleep and stay in bed. Then BiggestBrother thuds back down stairs. He's gotta go.

It's a flying visit.

I wasn't until BiggestBrother turned up.

That I realised just how much help I needed at that moment. I was pretty on the edge of sanity. He was like a big hairy angel to me. And in he swooped. Hairy like.

And BabyBoy3 does know BiggestBrother so he wouldn't have been too scared. But hopefully scared enough to stay in bed this time.

<Crosses fingers>

After BiggestBrother has left.

I head into the kitchen and start baking. I have a cake to make for Boy9.

I’m mentally all over the shop. And baking is good therapy for my stressed and grumpy mind. Some music and much cleaning of chocolate covered spoons later. I am feeling back to myself.

I sneak upstairs and check on BabyBoy3. I'd left it ages as I didn't want to undo any staying-in-bed-ness magic BiggestBrother has worked. I find BabyBoy3 totally asleep, tucked up in bed.

Sleeping like a little snorey angel.

(Things to do rather than going to sleep #52: Place all soft toys on duvet,

on floor, to make sleeping harder)

(... it’s hard to stay cross at such a cutie…

<Manages it>)

Bless.

And thank you BiggestBrother. I needed that.

X

Night Night, Sleep Tight...

Night night, sleep tight.

Don't let the big dragon carry off to its mountain top and eat you bedbugs bite.

Actually scratch that…

Night night, sleep tight...

And if you wake up. Just go straight back to sleep. Don’t get up. Don’t check anything with us. It's all fine. And definitely don't sneak into our bed. Again.

(And we still wish you positive things with regard to the bugs and their biting, as in we hope they refrain) (Not that there are bugs or spiders in your beds of course)

<Smirks and whistles off>

Each child has their own tactics for trying to get into our bed:

(OK! I think I’ve got it… Just one question? Which line do I bat from?)

Boy9 knows to avoid me.

He knows that if he comes into Team Parents (yay!) HQ bedroom and I find him first.

Boy9's reason for being up better be pretty damn good.

What you want? <Eyes still shut> <Grammer still sleepy>

Boy9: 'I can't sleep' <Saddest voice ever>

Is it because you are being woken by a mini-version of yourself?

Is that your problem?

Try getting back into bed... and then sleeping...

Boy9: 'The rain is keeping me awake' <Spoken as though it’s a horror movie>

It doesn't normally <Wide eyes> Try counting every rain drop you hear...

Boy9: 'I think I heard the cat knock your Optimus Prime over'

Really? <Sits up> We better go check...

He can have a hug. Obv.

I'm not a monster. He can hop into the bed for a quick cuddle. But as Boy9 sleeps at the heat of a million suns.

It's never the longest hug.

Boy9 actively aims for Mrs. Amazing.

When he comes in during the night. If I catch him we can end up arguing, at ARGH-O'Clock, over him not waiting to discuss his awakeness with me.

Because it's only for Mrs. Amazing's ears. That just makes me happier.

Especially as I know it’s Boy9 code for: ‘My reason for being up, won't wash with you... But it's gold for Mummy’

Eventually though.

Boy9 is either frog-marched back to bed. Or, if I can be woken, maybe you can hire the D-Team. And persuaded. And you communicated with and generally made agreeable to carry a tiny person about.Then I sometimes carry the huge sack of potatoes (Boy9) to bed.

I rarely smack his head on walls anymore. I have become a lot from careful and caring.

However the landing are getting worse...

What have you been eating?

Boy9: 'Cake and bacon...'

Good boy... Here we go… <Walks into Boy9’s room>

Boy9: 'Can you drop me gently this time Da…

Yeah… Argh! No! You’re flipping heavy! ARGHGGH!...

[THUD]

Sorry! My bad! ... Thought the bed was here... it's not.

Night... <Blows a kiss and runs>

(It was the title and classiness of this cake that caught my stomach eye...

And it is served with booze... #Winner)

Miss5 is the master at sneaking in.

She's like a ninja. Light on her feet. Quick. Mostly silent. Patient and can blend into the shadows and disappear should I hear something.

Miss5 is also very huggable.

Even I (the King of all resisting) cannot resist a Miss5 hug deep in the depths of the evening. Shame Miss5 is quite so kicky.

Even when she's in a good mood. She still a bit kicky. Probably a sleeping reflex.

And also it's a huge shame her kicks are waist height on me.

OW.

Miss5 tends to aim for Mrs. Amazing's side of the bed too.

Which is fair enough as there’s the normal ‘Waking the Golem’ issue with my side.

But also Mrs. Amazing just can’t say no to a simple 'Mummy I'm cold'.

To be let in for a warm-up hug.

Often I don't notice Miss5 has snuck in.

Well not to start with. Eventually. Hours later I'll wake with Mrs. Amazing pressed right up to me. It’s not my birthday? The heat in the bed similar to that of the surface of Mercury.

For if Boy9 sleeps at the heat of million suns. Then Mrs. Amazing and Miss5 both hit the billion suns mark. And together?

Warm. Very warm.

Removing Miss5 from our bed is the trickiest.

If Miss5 is asleep. That’s fine. I can pick her sleepy-self up, and carry / hug her back to bed. Easy job. No probs.

However. If she's awake it can go one of two ways.

a)

Back to bed Miss5 <Nice voice>

Miss5: 'Sure Daddy. Let's go' <Happily toddles back to bed>

b)

Back to bed Miss5 <Nice voice>

Miss5: 'Oh, I'm afraid the deflector shield will be quite operational when your friends arrive… you are mistaken’ <Shakes head>

Miss5: 'I. Will. Not. Be. Going. Anywhere' <Becomes un-pickup able like the Cat>

If it's situation (b).

Which it normally is. Then I have to call in my Team Parent (yay!) team mate. Mrs. Amazing.

Otherwise there's going to be two angry people shouting at each other in the wee hours of the morning. I am not at my most tolerant at that time of decade day...

GO BACK TO BED!!!

Miss5: 'NO' <Starts kicking towards me>

Don't you KICK ME!

Miss5: <Takes the dare>

OW! RIGHT! <Picks up kicky daughter>

OW! No scratching! OW!

<Puts hellcat daughter back in her bed>

Go to bed! Er.. SLEEP!

Miss5: 'NO!' <Follows me back to my bed>

<Copes badly> ARGHGHGHHH!

[Repeat a few times, and very little progress is made]

Mrs. Amazing: <Gets up, puts on dressing gown, calmly talks to Miss5, picks up Miss5 and she goes back to bed quietly and happily>

<Fails to get back to sleep for ages, is too annoyed>

It's a nitro and glycerin thing.

Me being nitro and Miss5 being glycerin. And when you mix the two...

[BOOM!]

<Looks at the rubble> What have we done?

Miss5: ‘It can’t be my fault’

Oh yes? Why not?

Miss5: ‘I’m only five!’

Damn it. Look... It's think it’s best we just…
…

... RUN!

Miss5: 'Sure' <Skips off>

(It seems to say ‘O NO’ a lot... Which feels apt...)

And then there's BabyBoy2.

Beautiful. Lovely. Happy BabyBoy2. Still stuck behind bars in his cage cot.

Singing away to himself and generally being pretty calm and cool about stuff.

BabyBoy2 only gets into our bed because we put him there. Normally because he is poorly.

And yet when he does get there. His big chance...

He blows it every time.

BabyBoy2 just cannot be calm in our bed.

BabyBoy2 never learnt how to be in bed with Team Parent (yay!) whilst they are sleeping.

He has failed to master the art of lying still. And being quiet. In our bed.

Or at least pretending enough that Team Parents (yay!) can at least get restless, broken, uncomfortable sleep. #TheDream!

To BabyBoy2 our bed is a play park / trampoline. With his two favourite people in it.

It's just too exciting...

BabyBoy2: 'Ooooooo!' (* 'Look! There's Mummy! Yay!') <Bounces over>

Mrs. Amazing: ‘Hello’ <Has eyes shut>

BabyBoy2: 'Ahhhhh' (* 'And there's Daddy! Yay!') <Bounces over>

<Gives a slobbery kiss> <Headbutts me too>

Urgh (* ‘Hey dude! Love you too!’)

BabyBoy2: 'Mummy!' (* 'Look there's Mummy again! <More bouncing>

<Gives a non-slobbery kiss>

BabyBoy2: 'WOWWWWW' (* 'You've pillows! And a light!')

<Light goes off and on very quickly a lot>

<Pillows get thrown about>

We don’t help either.

Team Parent (yay!) laugh and giggle as BabyBoy2 bounces around.

He is utterly adorable and it is very hard to make him stop and calm down. Moments like this to me are the best moments of parenting. He is hella cute.

Even 3am when you’re knackered.

And yeah we could take him straight back to his cot. So we can get a bit more sleep.

Which do we tend to need.

(One of BabyBoy2’s best sleeping positions!

The other is at a right angle across my face.

Which he alternates between every other second.

Whilst bouncing...)

Or we enjoy some golden moments with our littlest one.

Because they are magical and worth everything. And before he gets all big like the other two sneakily did. We should probably put him back to bed.

BabyBoy2: <More happiest person in the world bouncing>

But I’m sure another ten minutes won’t hurt...

<Yawns and sucks in a whole planet>

X