Afternoon Blues

Surely my children are not the only ones.   Absolutely not.   I just can’t believe that they’re such an anomaly.   It’s almost irritating.

Every afternoon around 4 o’clock, my boys transform into creatures who resemble my children but are inhabited with little demons.   It never fails, like the a man changing into a werewolf at a full moon.   They become something other than my children at the stroke of 4 EVERY afternoon, regardless of the day of the week.  I mean EVERY AFTERNOON.

Please don’t tell me I’m stuck in this parallel universe alone, forced to suffer through the tortures of seeing children I love so much become such little monsters.

As stay at home moms, there are things we are forced to endure, there are scientific abnormalities we never knew existed.  One of these is the complete mutation of our little spawns.   I suppose I could blame my current viewpoint on binge watching episodes of Fringe over the weekend, but I can’t help but wonder if at 4 o’clock either I cross over into another universe or if my kids do.

Davey gave up naps about a year ago.  On occasion, we can get him to take a snoozer, but it’s rare.  Henry; however, is still forced to face the dreaded bed and a 2-3 hour nap every afternoon.   If he doesn’t nap, it’s like the Apocalypse has descended upon my house.  During Henry’s nap time is the only time I allow Davey to watch television and even then it’s only for about an hour or so, long enough for me to take care of some necessities.   So, one would think that if Henry is well-rested and Davey’s had some “down time” as well, their attitudes would be different, right?  WRONG!

Henry whines, he takes toys from his brother, he runs around like a screaming banshee and the entire time from when he awakes from what should be “restful slumber”, he’s yelling, “bites!”  which means he wants a snack.  My conundrum with this is that I’m trying to feed them dinner by 6 and I want them to be somewhat hungry so they may have a pleasant dining experience.  Unfortunately, most days I seem to be caving and like a broken seal that keeps leaking, once you’ve given Henry a snack, regardless of the size or what it is, he wants more.

When Henry whines, Davey becomes irritable.   He wants to slap his brother, I mean literally slap him, and on occasion I’ve caught him slapping Henry which leads to punishment for him and an even more horrible time for me.  I don’t know what to do.  I don’t know what occurs during the course of 2-3 hours in the afternoon that turns my children into raving lunatics.   At first, I thought they only did this with me, but no.  My husband experiences it first hand.  My parents have even suffered through this remaking of our children.

Yesterday afternoon was the same.   I love my boys.   I’m blessed to have them, I just wish they wouldn’t be little screaming leeches every afternoon.   I must remind myself on occasion that I’m stronger than them, that my mind has more power, but alas they literally break me down.   Perhaps I don’t possess the strength I thought I had or I’ve come to underestimate theirs.

A New Year Has Begun

And we’re back to the daily grind.

I’ve been a bit tardy, or possibly the word I’m searching for is negligent, with my blog. I’ve done so well in posting on a near daily basis, but with the holidays it became quite difficult. Each day, I’ve thought of new blog posts, but there was always a family engagement to attend, a three year old who was sick, then a one year old who was sick, a house to sanitize, and family fun to be had. You see, for two weeks my boys and I have lived in a state of pure bliss. My husband hasn’t travelled. There have been no 5 am drives to some Podunk town with a return hour of near midnight. There have been no overnight visits in which my husband has been called. He hasn’t even worked full weeks for the past two weeks! What a true treat it’s been for all of us. Unfortunately, our little fairytale world came to an end and reality reared her ugly head back at us this morning. How sad.

I’ve found myself becoming a bit nostalgic over the past couple of weeks. I’ve thought about our holidays before we were parents, our New Year’s Eves of partying until 2 am, and our days off when we did nothing but sit at home and binge watch old episodes of Fringe and 24 or a Harry Potter marathon. What grand days those were, but none as grand as what we have now.

No longer do we go out on New Year’s Eve. With the chiming of the 10 p.m. bell, we’re usually fast asleep. Of course this year we dealt with the younger crowd of our neighborhood, those who still party like it’s 1999 and have zero respect or concern for those around them. Am I still a bit bitter? Why, yes, I am. But as I sat listening, angrily I might add, at the continuous fireworks and drunken stupors of our neighbors until 1 am, I found myself thinking back to last year’s New Year’s Eve and even a few prior ones.

I’d only become a mother for the second time and my sweet, precious Henry was just a few weeks old, three to be exact. He was a hard little bugger to get to sleep, much harder than Davey. We used to rock him, swaddle him, sing to him, turn on white noise, and even just pray that he would give us a few hours of sleep. Two at a time was usually his preference, which obviously didn’t allow much in the way of fun for us.

My original intent last year was to actually stay awake with my husband and ring in the New Year watching Dick Clark’s Rockin’ New Year’s Eve. We did that at a party on our very first New Year’s Eve together. Hall & Oates were the huge performing act that night, and no it was not 1985 for all of you smug little people. It was New Year’s Eve 2003, and we sang “Maneater” right along with Hall & Oates. Any time I hear a Hall & Oates song I’m immediately transported back to that night. They’ve actually become quite a favorite band of my husband and me.

Instead of the champagne we’d had nine years earlier, I’d bought a bottle of sparkling white grape juice. We were going to have a quiet evening together, just the two of us. Of course, Henry wouldn’t dare think of maintaining any level of peace in the house, so being much too exhausted to follow through with our plans, we went to bed when Henry did…8 o’clock.

True to form, he slept a couple of hours. I nursed him, put him back to bed, and crawled back alongside my snoring husband. 11:30 flashed on the clock when Henry’s whimpers turned into cries and I arose once more to nurse him back to sleep. Sleep was not on his agenda. I decided that since it was so close to midnight, I’d take Henry downstairs and we could watch the ball drop. When I rolled over to ask my husband if he’d like to join me downstairs to ring in the New Year, he’s gruff reply was, “No. Leave me alone. I wanna sleep.” Jerk! I wanted to sleep too. So I rang in 2013 with my second son smiling up at me, or maybe he was just gassy.

This year I contemplated having something special for Davey. Perhaps buying hats, noisemakers, and streamers. Nah! I really didn’t want to deal with all of that, but we did celebrate early and my three year old drank out of his first champagne flute…filled with sparkling red grape juice. He actually became quite the lush and continued to ask for more. Hopefully, that’s not a sign. We watched some of the New Year’s Eve programming. I giggled as Davey sang right along to Taylor Swift’s “Shake it Off” while she performed it. He’s a huge fan of Tay Tay! And truly it was our most memorable, relaxing, and enjoyable New Year’s Eves in quite some time. It’s reminded me of the little things that are important, the things I take for granted, and the happiness I have with my life.

Dave and Davey enjoying their "champagne".
Dave and Davey enjoying their “champagne”.

So, with this new year beginning, I want to wish you all a joyful, healthy, and prosperous New Year. Thank you all for your continued support in the four years I’ve been writing this blog. I’ve found that I have followers in 56 countries! My, my, I can’t even think of 56 countries off the top of my head! Thank you again and I look forward to a wonderful 2015.

me and my oldest.
me and my oldest.

Happy New Year!