I ordered the bunk beds last week, against Jeff's better judgment and numerous naysayers. But a desperate (read: tired) mother does desperate things. The delivery estimate was Thursday, but they arrived yesterday. Because of the earthquake, I left work early, gathered my children, and got home in time to get them put together.
When bedtime came, everyone was excited. But they were also overtired. I tucked them in, said prayers, performed all of Kelly's necessary rituals (big hug, little hug, kiss on her left cheek, kiss on her right cheek, kiss on the lips, kiss on my right cheek, kiss on my left cheek, kiss on my hand, blow kisses, and say "Goodnight Princess, I love you" -- and start over if it's not right -- OCD? in our family? p'shaw!), and turned out the light.
That started it. Alyson begged to keep the lamp on. I relented. And the door was open. AND they could see my feet if I was laying on my bed.
So Alyson starts to grill me about how often I am going to check on them and when I will be in my bed. Then some bickering. And then I hear Kelly say, "I have to tell you some good news and some bad news. The good news is that we go to Temple tomorrow! Yay! The bad news is that monsters...." And that is all I heard when Alyson's wailing started.
In no time, Alyson was beside my bed saying Kelly was scaring her.
Console. Walk back to bed. Tell Kelly to quiet down. Try again.
That opened the floodgates for Alyson.
There was yelling. There was hugging. There was crying. And there was a LOT of walking back and tucking in. In the end, Alyson's punishment was not being allowed to sleep on the couch, and Kelly won't be having strawberry milk today.
The upside is that they started the night and finished the morning in the bunk beds. This will take time, obviously. Jeff is certain it was a waste of money. I am still hopeful.
At a minimum, we got a good laugh when Kelly, in her exasperated 3 year old voice, said to Alyson, "Stop being a mope-apotamos!"
Don't eat your tutu.
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