Grand plans are accomplished over time

Boy jumps into our bed on weekend mornings. Sometimes he asks and sometimes he doesn’t ask. I unconsciously make some room. By unconsciously I mean I better move or I will get kicked. I don’t really have a choice at this point. He has slowly trained me like a dog. Next, the TV gets turned on. Channel 60. I’m not even sure what channel that is, I just know it has cartoons and he knows them all. I try to go back to sleep. It used to be easy. He was smaller, but now it’s hard. He is bigger, he doesn’t sit still and Mommy is 7 months pregnant. So, here I lie in-between a five-year-old with the pointy elbows and the jimmy legs and Mommy who I’m not allowed to touch at this point. She’s uncomfortable and I am hot like a furnace. Baby Girl has even gotten into the act. There are just too many people. No pun intended, but I find myself lying in the bed that I made.

It didn’t have to be this way, you should learn from my mistakes. See, kids are cute. It started where the little head and eyes peering over the covers at me would wake me up. A quiet sweet voice. Daddy, can I please come into your bed? Sure, Boy. I’m thinking, eh, it’s 7 o’clock, I’m gonna have to get up soon anyway. No problem. He would fall right back to sleep and we’d all be comfortable. And we’re bonding. Slowly he would add things into the mix. Daddy, can I come in to bed with you and watch a show? Sure, we’ve already established that I am green-lighting Boy coming into bed, what’s wrong with a little Sesame Street while he’s there. I sleep through it anyway. Next, he tries to throw refreshments into the mix. Dad, can I come into bed, watch a show and have a cup of milk? See what they do? The key to everything with children is this: If they want something more than you don’t want them to have it, they will win. But there is no way in H-E-double hockey sticks that I am getting out of bed, going downstairs and getting him a cup of milk at 6 in the morning. Oh, yeah, it’s 6, not 7 at this point. He keeps trying to get his way, and I, for the most part hold my ground. If I get up and get the milk the precedent is set and he wins. No milk. Please? No. PLEASE!? NO. Don’t ask again. He tries it for about a week before abandoning the plan. It’s a fight that basically means I’m awake at this point. But I am not getting milk on principle. Soon, he starts coming in earlier and earlier. The little sh—starts coming in around 5. Trying to put on the TV. I need Mommy’s help managing this one. See, she hates the TV in the bedroom, but that is a battle I won because I wanted it more than she didn’t want me to have it. I set the precedent. But there is no way we are watching TV at 5. Not to mention, all that’s on at that hour is Billy Mays and the religious stuff. I can’t sleep through that. But, for about a week he keeps trying. He pushes, I push back. I can’t give in. I can’t I keep telling myself this. Next, he starts working the weekdays. He started with Saturday, which turned to Saturdays and Sundays, which we allow. He was mixing in a Friday here and there which he snuck past me. Which quickly escalated to everyday. I don’t know how it happens. Do you know how hard it is to de-establish the precedent? You have to really want it. You have to be prepared to deal with crying breakdowns and being yelled at as the sun is just coming up. So after weeks (really months) of taking verbal abuse, I’ve got it down to just weekends and no TV before 6. I can live with it, but it’s gotten worse as both Boy and Mommy grow. And now, Baby Girl jumps right into the mix. She didn’t set the precedents; she just takes advantage of them as law. She calls Dada; I get her out of the crib. She points to our room. I take her in and put her in our bed. She points to the TV. I turn it on. She’s like Patton; I just do what she orders me too. I’m developing a back and shoulder problem from being contorted around them.

In his head, Boy always has the end goal in sight. I truly think that he had a grand plan to basically switch bedrooms with Mommy and me. He would have multiple giant flat screens with different channels going. Sponge Bob on one, America’s Funniest Videos on another. All with Tivo. There would be a kitchenette for refreshments and an omelet station for breakfast. I would have to get up at 5 to prepare everything. School would be pushed back to 10, so he could start his days off right. He had the grand plan in his head and was slowly working towards it, bit by bit. He’s a trailblazer. Girl is more of a pragmatist. She sees the opportunities for what they are and just takes advantage. Why blaze a new trail when one already exists?

I’m a sucker. What it is teaching me is to always look for the end goal. What is this one simple request leading to? And how will it hurt me? Don’t let the Boy stay up late one time unless you are prepared for him expecting to stay up late the next night. And the one after that.