Stall. Stalling. Stalled. Staller.

How many times did my Mother yell “no more stalling, get to bed” and how many times did I lower my head and shuffle back down the hall?

The all-American bedtime stall is has begun in earnest around here and its kinda cute. Annoying, but cute. I only say its “cute” because a 4-year old can’t really trick me yet. For instance, if you get in your bed and I walk down the hall, there is NO WAY you have already fallen asleep and had a “bad dream” by the time I turn around. I mean, maybe you’ve fallen asleep in record time, but I’m guessing you haven’t had enough time to have any sort of thought other than “ok, I’m getting out of bed and telling her it was a bad dream.”

So yeah, the Count exiting his bed 1 full second after I’ve put him there is annoying, but rather hilarious that he thinks he’s pulling one over on me.

HRH Princess Peanut is much more slick. She’ll lay her wee head on my arm and pet me. All she says is “sleep Mamma? Sleep?” Which means, “crazy lady, lay down with me.”

They pull the usual need to go pee, need a drink of water, forgot my stuffed animal, etc. etc. etc. But I’m starting to like it when they run out of the regular excuses and try their hand and manipulation.

“Mom, you said 5 days ago that one day we would look at the stars and moon when its dark and we would make telescopes. So let’s GO! What do you mean NOT TONIGHT? But you SAID that…that ONE time…like a WEEK ago!”

“Mom I forgot to finish that game we were playing downstairs. And if I don’t finish it the game will never end. It will NEVER END, Mom. I have to go now and finish that game.”

But even better than the really lame excuses that don’t even make sense, are the reactions when I say “no.”

“Oh MOM this is my WORST NIGHT EVER. I have to go get that one puzzle piece to sleep with or this will be my WORST NIGHT EVER and I will NEVER SLEEP. I WILL NEVER SLEEP.”

I’ve been trying to remember what was so god-awful about going to bed. Why is it such torture? Obviously we all did this as kids. Its not like our children invented the bed-time stall. I think I used to fake sick. Or maybe need LOTS of water.

Whatever the reason I’m still trying to remember WHY I didn’t care to go to bed. Life was too exciting? I was way to busy? I had too many things to think about?

I want to know this because I think I can reason with my kids. Its my downfall as a parent. I want to reason with them. As any of you know, you can’t reason with a temper tantrum throwing 2-year old any better than you can reason with your couch. Yet I try. As Sarah and Bush say, “we don’t negotiate with terrorists.” I only adopt that reasoning part of the time. I need to implement it ALL of the time.

Assume children are terrorists. Do NOT attempt to reason with them. Always be on the offensive. Maybe stop short of Gitmo, but think about barbed wire for beds.

Alright, that might not work for us either. Its not a huge problem at our house yet, but I can see those little wheels spinning in those little heads and I can tell they will be champion stallers before Christmas. There is no bedtime battle as of yet, I’m just trying to be a good dictator and avoid one. You know, fight them now so I don’t have to fight them later.

Or is it inevitable? Maybe I can just bomb the shit out of their bedroom, you know…f’ up their infrastructure a bit. Then walk away. NOW SLEEP! HAHA! I mean, that sends one hell of a message. I’m in charge. I can make your life hell. Don’t mess with me. Go to bed.

Or I can try reasoning with them.

Or not.

I don’t know. I do know I’m lazy and don’t really have the energy to fight them there so I don’t have to fight them here. In fact, for now maybe I’ll just be amused at their attempts. Silly little terrorists.