I swear, Barnum and Bailey got nuthin’ on bedtime at my house.

Tater, my oldest, wants to go to bed.  He really does.  However, he feels the need to fight it at least a little bit.

“I am too tired to brush my teeth.”

I put my foot down, and he will comply.  Though the other night he says “how come you never brush your teeth?”

“I brush my teeth before I go to bed, which is later than you.  I have to pack your lunch and get the baby to sleep, so you just don’t see me do it that often.”

And I finally get to eat something once you guys are asleep!  Hot food!  Maybe even ice cream.  But I can’t tell him that, because of course children are already convinced grown ups have a blast once they go to bed.

We all know we just take our bras off, pack some lunches and maybe watch some tv.  Ok, and probably eat ice cream.

My baby?  He is a joy.  When he is ready for his bed, he makes it clear.  I lay him down.  I start his musical aquarium thing and cover him.  He grabs his fleece blanket in one hand and starts to suck his thumb.  He is probably set until 3 AM, if I am lucky.

My middle child, Linus?  Oh boy.  He has been difficult to put to bed ever since he discovered mobility.

He might want to sleep with Tater.  Tater will usually protest this, because he would actually like to get some sleep.

Linus requires 1) a drink, 2) his kee kee (blanket), 3) a toy or movie to look at.  This is the bare minimum.  He also requires his back to be scratched.  If he is in the parental bed, he likes to have Jack Johnson played on the alarm clock/radio thing that will use an iPod.

If he happened to fall asleep on a car ride anywhere during the day?

Fuhgedaboutit.  Bedtime is going to take at least 45 minutes and have you wishing you drank hard liquor.

“I don’t know how to sleep” he moans as he stumbles out of bed, eyes at half mast.

The upside is that he is finally sleeping through the night.  He would wake up, probably having to pee but too asleep to know why he was up, so someone (ME) would have to take him to go potty and escort him back to where he was supposed to be sleeping.

Linus has his own bed.  Hubby says “if only he had his own room.”  Our house really is not a four bedroom house.  It is a three bedroom with an open area upstairs: that is the playroom.  But I know his own room is not the answer.

Linus’s bed has been in Tater’s room.  In the playroom.  In the nursery.

It does not matter.  The boy uses his bed as much as I use my exercise videos.

He has had a “nest” in our room.  He has nested himself in the hallway (because he hates his bed that much).  It is a really cool bed.  It has a “garage” at the head and a bench to sit on at the foot.  It has Thomas the Tank Engine bedding.  It does not matter.

Some nights I could just scream.

If both of them do not want to brush, run around naked rather than get their jammies on, get picky about bedtime stories, refuse to sleep together, claim they are starving to death once stories are read, need to be scratched or prayed with, all while the baby is crying to have his last nursing session so he can go to bed, I get all drill sergeant.

“Do you want to buy your lunch tomorrow?  Do you want to eat Sloppy Joes?   If you do not go to bed RIGHT NOW, I will be in no mood to pack lunches.  Are you going to eat green beans????”

Is it nice?  No.  Does it work?  Yes.

Ok, sometimes.

Because I will do just about anything to have an hour or two at night that does not involve my kids.

And because I also know they need their sleep.  Sleep is a good thing.  It is not our enemy that must be fought tooth and nail.  Sleep makes children into the smiling, happy people that we love.

Sleep is worth fighting for.  Sacrificing for.  Not just for us parents, who probably haven’t slept well since we brought them into the world.  But for kids too.  They need their sleep.

So step right up and see the Mom who is ready to lose her mind!  Every night!