Cock-A-Doodle-Doooooo!

Ever since all this snow day and spring break business, the Tweedles (Boys #1 and #2) have gotten into this lazy habit of going to bed later than they should.  This has caused HUGE issues come morning time when I come in and kindly wake them up with my sweet morning singing… and sometimes a little dancing.

The frustrating thing is, they just don’t appreciate the fact that after long nights of feeding baby and waking #3 up to go potty so he won’t wet the bed, I still get up at 7 sharp so I can put on my happy face, climb the longest stairway in the history of the world (at least it feels that way at 7 am) only to wake up grumpy little morning trolls.

These last couple weeks, #1 has been especially sassy, and #2 just flat out ignores me and stays in bed.  This results in missed breakfasts, unbrushed teeth, and crazy hooligans in mismatched socks, shoes in hand, running out the door racing to catch the bus. And yesterday morning after a particularly difficult wake up, #1 informed me that it was all MY fault.  I am the WORST mom in the HISTORY of the world because… wait for it… I wake them up too early.  Yes, that is right.  Their grumpiness has NOTHING whatsoever to do with the fact that I have to fight them every night to get their butts in bed and STAY in bed by 8.  No no no… the fact that they sneak toys and books and flashlights under their covers and giggle until midnight has NOTHING to do with them being tired in the morning.  It’s ALL my fault because I wake up the little angels too early.

Boo. Freaking. Hoo.

“So let me get this straight,” I said trying not to lose my cool. “It’s my fault you are tired in the morning because I wake you up in time to get ready and catch the bus to school?  Even though you guys made bad choices last night and stayed up too late?”

“Yeah,” #1 said.  I laughed.

“Okay, since me waking you up is such an issue, I won’t do it anymore.  You guys can get up yourselves and get ready and make it to the bus on your own, since you are such BIG boys now.”

I heard high fives and fist bumps going on as I went down stairs.  Go ahead and celebrate boys… enjoy your brief moment of false victory… 

Last night I had Ben set the alarm on their innocent looking digital clock.

This morning, I woke up to THUMP THUMP THUMPS of many little legs running down the stairs at 7 am sharp.

“MOM!!!! MOM!!!!! The fire alarm is going off upstairs!!!!” They were yelling in unison completely wide eyed and totally freaking out.  It was GLORIOUS!

“Not the fire alarm guys.  You said you didn’t want me to wake you up in the morning any more, so I decided to treat you like responsible big boys and daddy and I set your alarm clock.”  I walked upstairs and showed them how to turn it off.  ”So now every morning, instead of being bothered by me, you will wake up to the sweet digital music of get-your-lazy-butts-out-of-bed.  Welcome to the real world boys!”

Oh, snap!

Total melt down. Of the nuclear class.

“We’re SOOOOO SORRY!!!” and “We’ll never be mean to you again!”‘s were followed by “PLEASE don’t make us wake up to that again!!  PLEASE!!!” and “We want you to wake us up EVERY morning!” and lots of wailing, fist pounding, leg kicking, brown-nosing, and as the Bible would say, gnashing of teeth.  All of which were completely pointless and a waste of good energy.

Oh, how sad it is to get a reality check.  I’m feeling really bad for them as I laugh myself silly and sip a congratulatory morning Diet Pepsi on the rocks.

Needless to say they got out the door with shoes on their feet, lunches in their packs, full bellies, teeth brushed, and repentant faces.

Oh, I love parent wins!

-Cat