One down. Four to go.

Well that was a long night.

Who are these single parents of two? They all deserve medals.

Or at least a lifetime supply of coffee and under eye makeup.

Everything started off innocently enough.

I managed to get both kids happily bathed, smelling like roses and in their jammies.

I put Griffin downstairs so I could read Clemmie her bedtime books without distracting her from her routine too much.

I knew he'd cry, but also that he'd live, and put Clem to bed.

Two books and a story.

Easy breezy beautiful.

When I got downstairs the boy was beside himself, but I consoled him back to a happy state and even managed to eat supper. (Which I had the foresight to make in advance knowing my window of opportunity would be a small one.)

45 minutes went by.

I can totally do this!

And then.

Chaos.

A screaming two year old over the monitor.

"Something's scaring me mom!" "There's a bug! There's a bug!" "I need another storyyyyy!"

45 minutes! Wasn't she asleep?

Doesn't she realize this is only the first of five nights we have to do this?

I decided to pick a time on the clock that, if she didn't stopped screaming by then, I would go to her.

I never should have gone.

It was like I completely lost my mind.

Or, if I was going to go, I never should have brought Griffin with me.

I went up without him at first, but could hear him screaming blue flipping murder and came back down.

Naturally she screamed even louder over the fact that I'd left her again!

I called my dad.

"Dad. I need your hands here."

That in itself wasn't a mistake, but letting Clem know her Papa was here, however, was.

"Papa. YOU read a book."

So Papa read her a book.

And when Papa reads a book, Papa takes his time and uses different voices, and inflection, and makes it just a little more fun than when mom reads a book. (In my defense, if it was my first Mercer Mayer rodeo, I might take a little more time with it myself.)

So when I came in the room again to announce I'd read her one more book and then it'd be bed time, it was Niagara Falls all over again.

We got through it.

I read a book, and told another story and left her with a "I'm not coming back until tomorrow morning" and went downstairs again to relieve dad.

Griffin didn't fall asleep until 9:30 (not the worst for a 4 month old but so much for time alone) and then I did some freelance work until 11pm.

I should have gone to bed earlier.

I fell asleep just fine, but woke up at 12:30 and tossed and turned until at least 3:30.

Then Griff woke up at 5:30 to eat and Clem work up for the day at 6:30.

So I'll be loads of fun today.

The sun better shine or I might not have the energy to do this all over again tonight.

Thankfully the boy is still asleep now at 8am and Clementine is munching a Cheerios and watching Toy Story on the couch.

So the big question is, do I try it again on my own tonight or do I call in the reinforcements?

I mean, I AM their mother. I should be able to do this.

I kind of want to prove it to myself even.

But I know almost for certain that she will attempt the same antics again.

They worked after all.

I'll just have to have a plan of attack in place this time.

I'm thinking Gravol.

For one of us anyway.

Happy Long Weekend!

Really looking forward to the post-bedtime fireworks. Really.