Bedtime Lockdown

I am about to share with you a part of our bedtime routine which makes some mothers cringe. Now, now, don't let your mind wander because I do not have any cages laying around the house or a Tuff Shed converted into a toddler prison in the backyard. What I do is much more humane and in my experience has been suggested by experts. I lock my children's doors from the outside when they go to sleep at night. That's right, after 730 Lash and Remy lose their household privileges and are forced to stay in their rooms to do the unthinkable. SLEEP.

After you get over the original shock of hearing a mother say she locks her children's doors you may start to wonder about the possible fire hazard. Fear not good people. It's not like I have a padlock on the doors or several chain locks that would be impossible to slide in an emergency. No, we simply turned their knob locks around so the little locking mechanism faces into the hallway. In case of fire or unwanted intruder all we have to do is turn the little thingy and the boys are free!!! I have also discussed this around my firefighter brother in law and he didn't seem to disagree with it and usually he'll speak up about safety no matter what (like when we were installing our car seats without having them checked) so I took his silence as his blessing.

Now that the fire concern is out of the way and you have not decided to stop following the blog of such an evil and sadistic mother allow me to explain why I added locks to our night time routine and what information later vindicated my decision.

If you read my blog back in February you might know that my husband and I went to New Orleans for our annual 7 day kid less vacation. During our break from parenting duties my husband's mom kindly came to Vegas and watched my little dudes. She does a great job and my boys get to stay in their home while we are away allowing them some shred of normalcy without their lifeline, me. Upon our return home all seemed well until I went to bed that night. Around 10 or 11 I woke up suddenly to see a tiny little shadow scurrying around the hallway. This had never happened before because my children have been great sleepers since they were 4 months old. They had both been moved into toddler beds months prior and had never broken the golden rule of "stay". Though I knew the shadow was one of my toddlers it freaked me the fuck out. It was like one of those horror movies where a doll has come alive and is creeping around your house giggling wickedly. I got up and found my oldest Lash in the hallway. He informed me he was on his way to Remy's room for some play time. I sleepily admonished him and put him back in bed threatening bodily harm should he get up again. Though he went back to sleep that night every night after that one or both boys would get up throughout the night. I was perplexed to say the least (and tired as I hadn't had to night wakings since they breast fed).

After like 3 days of that nonsense I interrogated my father who lived with us at the time and he explained that it was something that started on day 2 of us being gone and that he had been the one to constantly put them back to bed because my mother in law is a hard sleeper. He also explained that she didn't address the situation thinking they would sleep sooner or later. She also thought they would sleep in the next day to make up for any lost sleep (which they never did because no matter what time they go to sleep or how many hours they lose at night they are up at the ass crack of dawn). I was worried because though we have a gate at the top of our stairs, my boys being the monkeys that they are, have often tried to climb the gate which leads to a straight drop down the stairs. I pictured being woken up to a broken and crying 2 year old laying lifeless on the stairs in the middle of the night. Not a picture to have in your head before bed at night.



The drop from our gate at the top of our stairs


I discussed the issue with Dave and the solution we came up with to keep Lash and Remy safe from themselves as well as preserve my much needed sleep (you haven't seen a bitch until you've seen me working off of 4 hours of sleep) was to turn their knobs around and lock them in. I know you've moved from fire terror to concern about the mental health of my kids. What would locking them in at night do to their psyche? Would they feel unloved like a dog left at the pound to rot? The answers are they're fine and no. On the first night of "Lock Down: Houston House" I explained to both boys that we would be locking their doors because it wasn't safe for them to wonder the house at night. I let them know that I had monitors for their rooms and would be able to hear them if they needed me but they needed to go to sleep and stay in their bed (or room at least) until morning. They were wary at first but have become totally used to it. Lash locks his door that leads to his Jack and Jill bathroom (a bathroom that goes through to the bedroom next to his). I placed a little potty in his room so he could relieve himself at night if he needs to, so no he isn't being denied bathroom privileges. This has worked well and though the boys still get up when they are first put to bed, they are safe and end up in bed because it is the only option after they have played for a while.

About the information that vindicated this decision. It did not come from those around me because though none of my friends judged me, none of them agreed with me either and all of them admitted they could "never" do that. I was actually vindicated by a professional (all be it one I watched on TV but a pro none the less). I was watching reruns of that show Raising Sextuplets with the sweet blonde, her anger management dropout husband, and their 6 toddlers one day when I came across an episode dealing with getting the sextuplets to stay in their rooms at night. The producers of the show brought in a sleep expert from Parenting magazine who told blondie and her agro boy to do exactly what I had already done. She explained that when children are babies their crib is their safe place at night but once they graduate into a toddler bed their bedroom becomes their crib. She explained that you must safety proof it (which I have totally done in Lash and Remy's rooms) then lock the door so they are in their safe place. Over time they will learn to just go to sleep (which my boys re-learned after a few weeks). Up until that point I was pleased with my results but wondered if I was doing something wrong. Turns out I was doing something right. I was keeping my boys safe even though those around me felt it was a radical and maybe unacceptable idea. Thank god I am a maverick when it comes to motherhood and follow my instincts not magazines and other moms or I may have had that broken toddler thought become reality.

I don't foresee locking them in forever (though when they're 16 we may turn the joint into San Quentin) but for now it seems like more of a safety requirement. Lash can unlock the front door now and Remy isn't far behind on that skill so until they can fully understand the consequences of such actions as well as the importance of sleeping they will keep their locks. And I will keep my sanity.

What about you? Do you think locking them in is a negative thing which will damage them irreparably or have you gotten an idea from this post? What do you do to keep your little creepers in at night? 

I Curse Therefore I Reap II

Several months back I wrote a little post called I Curse Therefore I Reap about my oldest son's less than stellar word choices. When I wrote that post, I believe I wrote mostly about Lash and his occasionally wayward mouth, little did I know that Remy was the key to a shitload of hurt in the fowl language department. He is 3 going on 40. He is entertaining but inappropriate with his words. A few minutes ago he called me a "dumbass" because I told him it was time to go take a nap. He has mastered cursing so well he has ventured into the forbidden arena of creating his own curse words such as his favorite "jerk ass". Remy has gone so far as to brave calling me a bitch for which he was spanked and issued a timeout (in answer to the gasp of concern and disdain you just issued, yes I spanked my son's little white ass because no matter how funny he sounds saying a curse word or how unacceptable strong parenting has become, he IS NOT going to disrespect his queen and creator. Call CPS all you want but don't forget to include Remy's ill conceived portion of the incident in your report).

Lash has outgrown curse words, going from saying them sometimes to policing others for their offenses. Remy is a different beast all together. While Lash is mature and sweet, Remy is impulsive and often angry. When Lash can be reasoned with Remy will have none of your bullshit and will call it as such. While Lash used his limited curses in the context of conversation Remy uses his for anger and pure shock value. It amazes me how far apart 13 months can be when it comes to children. Having children so close it also amazes me how utterly different they really are. Though Lash went through a short period of trying out the nasty words Remy seems to relish them using them more often than Lash even knew how to. He will say a curse word to one of us then cackle like a witch from one of those contrived Disney movies we all grew up with. Our family videos are littered with happy times punctuated by Remy's little voice calling out "shit" or "God dammit" from somewhere off camera. Different though they are, we do love them equally and try hard not to compare the two because that isn't fair to them. Remy is artistic and Lash is analytical. They should never be exactly the same. Even when it comes to something as unacceptable as cussing.

I know the blame falls squarely on the shoulders of my husband and I. After writing my previous post we have learned nothing. I just feel lucky Remy hasn't picked up more choices in words during Dave's football season rants (we're 49er fans so you can imagine the language that ensues on Sundays from August on). My Monday and Tuesday commutes to daycare and preschool could make a nun blush sometimes. Somehow, some way, we are going to have to learn to better curb our enthusiasm for use of the "bad words" in order to provide a better example and therefore live up to the expectations we place on our children. That is the starting point, and until we make a change Remy's little bouts of tourettes will get no better.

Poor little dude, if we're his only hope he doesn't stand a chance. On the bright side, at least he's verbally prepared for his eminent time in the public school system.

What do you think? Am I a bad parent or is this all par for the course? Am I the only one with a potential trucker on her hands?

 

Day 3

Today is day 3 of Lash’s first week of preschool and I have to tell you I have felt emotions I am not used to when it comes to my kids. I mentioned a few posts ago about the new found sentimentality but along with that came insecurity, anxiety, and guilt. I had no idea what an emotional shit storm school would bring (and this is just preschool for one of my children). I have spent so much time looking forward to school as some type of escape and the path back to my freedom as a person that I didn’t know it would feel more like depression than liberation. Lash, the intelligent little adventurer that he is, was so excited on the first day. I dropped him off with the other sour faced children then proceeded to bust a tear or two in the front office on my way out (don’t worry, he was not within view of his blubbering mother). It’s not like I wasn’t happy, I was nervous for him and sad that such a huge part of my life is coming to an end. Though he only goes 3 days a week I know this is just the beginning of chaotic days and activities without mommy. Since the boys turned 2 and 3 it has been so overwhelming that I almost couldn’t deal and just wished for more me time and to be doing something MORE with my life. Watching that little dude leave me for the day snapped something and made me realize I have been doing something MORE.

As people we are so programmed to believe that only high paying respectable jobs are honorable accomplishments. Don’t get me wrong, these are important and have helped our society to stave off  the upcoming entitlement generation. It makes people strive and work but, what happens when you step out of the race to raise a family? For me, the first year was fun and being that I was pregnant with Remy during  most of Lash’s first year it was also a blessing. As the years have worn on, I have started to feel brain dead and worthless. Like I wasn’t giving back and I was losing myself in the monotony of child rearing. I watched my mother go through the same thing at a young age and I finally understood why she tried so hard to get out there and reclaim herself.

Watching my oldest son go to school was rough but it was last night I had my Aha! moment. I realized that my self worth is still intact because I am creating PEOPLE. I have been blessed with the ability to be here day in and day out for the formative years of my children’s life. I have been able to educate and show them things that working full time may not have allowed (don’t get yo panties in a bunch working moms, we’re all doing well in our own damn ways). Though I haven’t brought home a paycheck in almost 4 years I have done a job most would not enjoy. I have done it well too. By no means am I done, it’s only preschool after all, but I am shaking off that feeling of uselessness that was starting to swallow me. As I watch my son take on school like it’s nothing I can see what being home has done for me and my family. As their days become filled and mine empty I do hope to do something part time (what that may be is a topic all it’s own) but instead of wishing to be doing something more I now hope to just be able to do what I have been doing. I am fine with being a SAHM and I’m not going to be hatin on it anymore.

It’s only the 3rd day and soon he won’t be so excited but on this 3rd day I feel good about my boys and myself as a mom. I fuckin rock the mom thing like it’s no one’s business and my paycheck is not only what I receive but also what I am giving back to the world. My boys will be happy well adjusted adults. I am doing the job of giving the world something it is starting to lack, motivated and decent humans (fingers crossed because no matter what parents do kids can go either way).  Preschool has awakened more than sentimentality, it has given me purpose and direction (as well as some much needed break time). You’re never too old to learn and at 32 the lessons just keep on coming.

Blog Stalk Fridays with CB

How to Play:

1. Take my fabulous new button

2. Post it

(in your post, on your sidebar... I don't give a fuck as long it's there!)

3. Then link your happy ass up!

CB is the author of a blog I recently found and now follow called One Crazy Brunette. She wips my ass in the cussing department but looks like a lady doing it. If you're brave enough link up and post the button above.

How to Have Fun at Madame Tussauds Wax Museum

Several weeks ago my husband was online and saw that Madam Tussuad's Wax Museum at the Venetian Hotel had gained a wax figure of MMA fighter Chuck Liddell. Due to the fact that we are total MMA fans and we needed to get the boys out of the house before we tied them up in their rooms and ran away from home to entertain them, we decided to make a rare trip down to the Las Vegas strip (locals avoid that shit whenever possible) and check it out. My kids haven't been down there in a while and were amazed by all of the hotels. I have never seen two people so enthralled with a parking garage. We could have hung out in there and they would have been perfectly happy but, we wanted to see the museum and I think my youngest, Remy, had a hankering to feel the camaraderie of the roulette table (not, he prefers the lavish bars like mommy and daddy).

We walked through the casino which is a very slow process with two short legged, bobble head toddlers and made our way to the counter to buy tickets. Upon entering the first room it was overly crowded and everyone was taking pictures with the figures so you couldn't walk without being a fixture in some tourists family memory. We made our way to our first wax figure of the legendary Jenna Jamison (that's right, the porn star) and this was the photo we decided to take:

Now, though we thought this was hilarious many around us did not follow suit. The boys had no clue they were just happy to be out and taking a pic. Little did any of the tourists know we were just getting started and if they were going to be near us during their tour they were going to be displeased further. Next to Jenna's waxy form was Brittney Spears and Dave was up next:

After giggling like idiotic Middle School kids we decided to try and get ahead of the crowd and went to the next room. It was my turn to take a picture with golfer and known manwhore Tiger Woods.

If this looks awkward it's because I was very embarrassed and did not get my head as close to his crotch as we had planned (not a problem for the hookers he cheated with). Just so you can see we aren't completely immature with little to know respect for our children here's one of our normal pics with Chuck (the inspiration for this naughty trip).

Yes, the face I am making here is stupid but that's how I roll (plus I hate pictures of myself and feel awkward in front of a camera). The next room held every one's favorite "alleged" child molester Michael Jackson. Can you guess who posed with him? If you said our kids then you're right (no prizes though, who do I look like, Bob Barker?)

We had told the boys to stand with their hands in a stop pose which if you look closely Lash is doing. I think Remy has some of the "Jesus Juice" in his sippy there and that may be why he seems a little more receptive to Mr. Jackson's presence (like the lucky boys who visited Wonderland). One of the last few pictures exemplifies how quickly kids can learn and then emulate any behavior:

Here you see sweet Lash molesting Madonna of his own free will. All I told him was stand next to her but he, much like his father, is a leg man (maybe because he can't reach the boobs yet).

In our defense we had fun so fuck all the tourists who were too good for our crass behavior in front of our young offspring. We took some normal pictures but these were the fun ones and reveal our sense of humor and the classy people we truly are.  Besides, it was much more fun than the expensive and totally shitty Gondola ride we took afterward. The boys love boats and we were enjoying our time out so we thought we'd take the Gondola around the hotel, little did we know that shit does not go around the hotel but stays in the pond out front with a 5 minute period spent under a bridge sweating your balls off. Being a Las Vegan I welcome everyone to come here and spend money to boost our economy but I do not suggest this rip off of an activity. Spend your money at the bars, in the casinos, or at the restaurants. Do not take the gondola ride. It is expensive (they charged us full price for Lash even though he's only 3) and the ride itself does not justify the price. You'd be better off riding the double decker public transit buses up and down the strip for 7 bucks.

In the end, it was a fun day and we look forward to our next debaucherous family outing. Just wait till we hit Disney Land when the boys get a little older. The happiest place on earth has nothin on the Houstons from Las Vegas.

Do you do crazy shit like this with your family or am I the most inappropriate mother on Earth? When you see someone acting like we did do you express your distaste and utter disgust via facial expressions or do you mind your own business?