Now we’ve welcomed number 4 into the world, number 3 is stepping up her game.
Not on call of duty or snakes and ladders, but in the “I don’t give a f*ck what mum and dad want” game.
Recently we’ve been struggling with bedtime. At 7 o’clock, we activate the bedtime routine. This means, TV off, bath, brush teeth and PJs. It’s a pretty flexible routine if I’m being honest and it usually wraps up at about 7:30/8:00 pm.
Call us lazy or neo-liberal parents, I don’t care, it works. Or at least, it did work.
Of late, Miss 3 has decided that she will now be dictating her bed time and if the last few nights are anything to go off, our little girl likes the late shift.
9 pm rolls around and we’re still fighting the good fight. Curse the person (me) who taught her how to open doors.
“Okay darling, time for bed” I say.
“No” replies Miss 3.
“You’re tired” I remind her.
“No” she asserts.
I try and steamroll her with the old ‘quickly tug and run’ job. No joy. She’s determined to send me to an early grave as I feel my blood pressure start to boil.
Last night was the end of the game. Christine decided it was time to implement drastic action and we put one of those plastic-handle-ball-thing on her side of the door.
Until at 11 pm I heard what sounded like a kick on the door. Yep, sure enough during her fight with the plastic-handle-ball-thing, she’d fallen asleep at the door.
You know that slow-motion door open that you do and hope they are far enough away from the door that you can squeeze in and pick up the child? Yeah, that.
She’s awake again but dad saves the day with a quick manoeuvre into bed and cuddle to send her back to the land of sheep.
VICTORIOUS ONCE AGAIN
It’s a constant struggle. Miss 3 is by far the hardest of the kids so far with brute strength and a determination to make our life hell.
But hey, all part of the parenting journey right?
When have your kids tested your patience?