Bedtime Mommy Monster

I was in the post office the other day and one of the ladies who work behind the counter asked if I was always so nice.  Yes, yes I know I have her fooled.  The first response out of my mouth was, "No, stop by my house at bedtime, I'm a monster."  She seemed a little surprised by my answer and maybe a little sorry she even said such a nice thing.

The grand finale of my day begins around seven, which I need to change for many reasons.  First item up is Sab's homework.  He is in Kindergarten, it's not brain surgery.  However, he acts so plagued by the littlest detail.  The other day his math sheet discussed the concept of grouping numbers.  This is still on my level, so I can handle it.  The instructions asked to find groupings of four in your house, ie spoons, forks, videos, etc.  See how this list can go on?  Sab completely lost his noodle (tantrum) and said he couldn't possibly do it.  Uh, hello?  Once upon a time I wanted to be an elementary school teacher, just think a roomful of stubborn Sabs?!?!?

In walks my assistant . . .The minute she hears the wooden chairs move across the floor, she is yelling PAPER, COLORS ?? ??

Quite possibly, Sab is even more irritated than before.

This is an overview shot.  Things can be quiet for a while.  Randomly she will look up and point her chubby finger at him.  Then she yells!  SaBE, u DONT.  He completely forgets she's a year old and tells her he's not doing anything.  She continues!  This is the funniest exchange.

After this little bit of chaos.  It's bath time, teeth time, vitamin time, STTTOOOORRRYYYYY time ( elongated because it is that long!), finally prayers.  Mia's is short and sweet because any longer and she tries to climb out of her crib. 

Sab has two prayers.  Now I lay me down . . . All of our family is included and depending on the day some guests too.  Frequently Eric, another physics teacher, sometimes Billy, my niece Kate's friend, and sometimes his infamous girlfriend Tiffany.

The last event in the grand finale is Sab's Lord Jesus Prayer.  It is long and an hour has passed since the beginning of this process.  I'm beyond tired and mostly irritated.  Then in his sweet little boy voice (also his con artist voice) he thanks Lord Jesus for every little thing involved in his day.  The ability to kick a ball.  And the five slices of pepperoni he snuck before his shower.   This thankfulness infuses me

 with so much guilt, I sit there speechless.  I'm almost humbled until the next night at 7:30 p.m.

Night, night - Mia would say.