Bedtime Busted

"Hey Mom," he says, "My tummy is grum-bul-eeng.  It is telling me to tell you I need some juice."
"Well," I say, noting the time, "Rest for a few minutes and maybe I'll bring you some."

Sometimes he goes back to sleep, sometimes he shows up ten minutes later in the hallway, peeking around the corner to catch my eye with the one eye he will allow to show.  Any more than one eye and Daddy sees him, stands up to remind him it's bedtime and he should be in bed.  That's when I stand up and try to pretend like I didn't completely break down in the face of bedtime rituals and promise our son a cup of juice.  They go back, I tiptoe into the kitchen and craft a cup in a hurry to drop off "on my way to check something" after Daddy returns to the living room.  It's an unspoken agreement, and Sebastian plays his part well as he's reminded to stay in bed after bedtime, knowing I will bring the contraband in only a moment.

But no longer!  I am joining the ranks of strict parenting!  Maybe not strict, but at least transparent!  I swear I will, at the very least, make Aaron aware of my deviations from any sort of routine!  I am NOT the servant of some CHILD who continues to use the SAME delay tactics EVERY NIGHT!  I will take a STAND!

Tonight, Sebastian could not catch my eye, and it was 9:45, far past the bedtime hour.  He sauntered into the living room, wearing his glow-in-the-dark Iron Man shirt like he owned the place.

"Mom," he said, "You and I need to have a talk in my room."

I was caught.  I looked directly in his eyes - both this time, and right at the arm of my chair.  I felt Aaron's narrowed gaze burning into me.  "You and I need to have a talk," he had said, in front of God, Aaron, and everybody.  I ignored the fact that I just got completely bossed around and decided to just bring my weakness out into the open.  Transparent parenting, I thought, I will act like this is an actual thing.

"Is this about what your tummy told you earlier?" Too subtle for a toddler, you moron!  "About the juice?"
"Yes Mom,"he said steadily, visibly relieved as he held my gaze, "You forgot to get me my juice."

I jumped up to get it, then slowed to walk in the kitchen lest Aaron notice how quickly I did our child's bidding and have more fuel for the discussion we would surely have later.  He is always the Bedtime Bad Cop, and my lack of support was just reprehensible.  Feeling the weight of my crimes, I struggled to craft a defense while I retrieved the juice - in a sippy cup to avoid spills!  There was no way to make this any better: I knew the whole time that I would have to answer for this once the little one was back in bed.

I took the cup in, handed it to the child who should have been sleeping hours before.  He wore a grin, of course, and a victorious giggle caught in his throat as he said "Thanks Mom!"

I trudged to the living room, aware of what awaited me.  I deserved every minute of it.  I was a fool, I had not conducted any type of discipline or routine to grow our child into a normal, functional human being.  Slowly, I turned the corner and tiptoed as if past a sleeping giant, to my seat.

"I paused it for you," Aaron said, as he resumed our show, took a swig of his water bottle, and rested his chin on his hand to watch.

Well... okay then.