Keep Calm – He’s Overtired

The night was beginning to look promising, an early night for the children and a tea and cake fest for us. Neither child napped, both looked ready for bed.

At 6pm we started talking about the programmes we were going to watch, while drinking tea and eating cake. It would be special.

At 6.30pm we ran the bath.

Silly billies.

Because eventhough it was bedtime. They were overtired, so bedtime was a long way off yet.

Although, we still pursued it, because we were ever the optimists.

At 7pm when we laid both children in their beds. The baby threw up and the toddler had a meltdown.

According to Mr Firstooth, this all stemmed from me offering the toddler his milk, while he was in the bath, instead of while he was being dried. Because having a reason and someone to blame makes everything seem a little easier to digest.

As I cleaned up the vomit, cursing our unrealistic vision of a relaxing evening, I heard the toddler chuckling while he was being walked downstairs. Funny that. How quickly he can go from meltdown to laughter.

The next two hours were about to test our patience and made me realise, I have patience. Who knew.

The evening went like this,

At first it looked easy. The baby was content all the while she was being held, by me and only me. An attempt at putting her down or daddy having a cuddle, would result in heartbreaking tears.

The toddler was quiet whilst he drank his milk and watched a little Peppa.

But then he finished his milk and Peppa ended.

Thus was the start of the end of the world. Over overtiredness. A new form of overtiredness we haven’t yet had the pleasure of witnessing.

He wanted his sister to sit on the small chair and push her around the house. She didn’t want to do this and it turns out he actually doesn’t want her anywhere near the chair. Because it’s his. The chair is his, the toys are his, I’m his. Narrating all of this to us in a scream, just in case we were unable to hear him.

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He wanted the chair put in the kitchen. ”Do you want your chair in the kitchen?”
”NO” falls to the ground and screams.

”Mummy, chair on the stairs”
”Shall I put your chair on the stairs?”
”NO” falls to the ground and screams.

”Mummy, get juice?”
”Would you like some juice?”
”NO” falls to the ground and screams.

I tried responding to his requests in silence, the reaction was just the same. Screaming, dramatically falling to the floor and body jerking.

Things were thrown. Empty threats were retaliated.

I was stuck between laughing and crying. Laughing, because it was a little funny, the dramatic reaction to everything. Crying, because it’s upsetting to see someone you love so much, so upset and nothing you do makes a difference.

After a few more meltdowns because of this chair, I’d had enough. The bastard thing got thrown out of the back door. The chair, not the toddler.

At 9pm, after enduring almost two hours of the toddlers up-tempo overtiredness, we thought let’s ditch them.

The baby fell asleep instantly wipes sweat off forehead

The toddler put up a fight. Strength was needed to hold his uncontrollable legs down while he was zipped into his sleeping bag. Like a straight jacket.

One story and a desperate cuddle later, we left him. He wailed for a moment and as if by magic. Tah dah, both were asleep. It may have only been 9pm, but it felt like midnight.

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We just spread out across the bed wondering what the fuck just happened.

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4 Comments

  1. October 28, 2015 / 4:39 pm

    Oh I know this all too well!

  2. October 30, 2015 / 12:02 pm

    Been there! The terrible twos and bedtime have been challenging at times.

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