Two Jobs

I am getting really tired of what happens at bedtime around here. What should be a simple routine inevitably ends up with someone (starting with a kid, but ending up with me) upset. And lights aren't turned out until well after 9:30 p.m. Since I turn into a pumpkin somewhere between 9:30 and 10:00 p.m., this isn't really working for me. I thought it was time to institute a new procedure. And to make things go more smoothly, I decided to start on a night when David would not be home.

Last night I called all the children together at 7:45 p.m. and told them it was time to start getting ready for bed. They had two, just two, jobs. One, they needed to brush their teeth and, two, they needed to get their pajamas on. I made it very clear that those were their only two jobs, and nothing else should be done. If those two jobs were not done, or if they decided to add something else in, reading privileges would be lost for that evening. "Remember" I said, "you only have TWO jobs, just two." Everyone acknowledged they heard and understood.

How did it work out? Well, as you might surmise since I'm writing about it, not as well as one would have hoped considering how many times I reiterated that there were only two jobs that I was interested in them completing. (Did I mention I wanted them to do two jobs?)

Less than a minute after I sent them upstairs, I heard the whoopee cushion. That gave me pause since that sound was definitely not germane to either of the TWO jobs. I mean, can you think of a way of explaining why a whoopee cushion might be needed to brush your teeth or get your pajamas on? No, I couldn't either. I was thinking about how to handle this when the whoopee cushion made its presence known again. Only this time there was screaming, crying, and door slamming immediately following. (I will pause here to give a huge, heartfelt thank you to the kids' Aunt Rebecca for giving Calvin that Christmas gift. Too bad you live in England so I can't thank you personally.)

By this point I'm half exasperated, half amused, so I go upstairs to investigate. I find Calvin in his room, still fully dressed with crocodile tears leaking from his eyes. I asked him if he remembered what his two jobs were. He promptly replied, "Brush my teeth and get my jammies on." I gave him a light swat on the butt and asked, "Do you know what that was for?" He said, "Uh-huh."

I then went into Sabrina's room (the source of the previous yelling and door slamming) and asked her what had happened. "Well, mother," she informed me, "I found Calvin's whoopee cushion in the hallway and thought I would be so kind as to return it to him. Of course, it made a little sound, but I wasn't doing it to upset him. I was just giving it back. THEN, he came into my room, my PRIVATE room, when I wasn't looking and made it fart in my ear! He scared me so badly that I am still frightened at this moment."

I gave her a light swat on the behind. She looked totally shocked and asked what that was for. I said that as "thoughtful" as she had been to return a toy to her brother's room, that task was not included on the list of TWO things I had given her to do and therefore she had disobeyed me. And besides, what kind of reaction had she expected from her brother? She flounced to her bed, but the drama just wasn't there. It's hard to flounce up a ladder into a loft bed.

I then went back to Calvin's room, only to find him in his bed, reading a book while fully clothed. I told him to get up, and again I gave him a light swat. He looked totally confused and said, "What was that for?" I asked yet again, "What were your two jobs?" He answered, "Brushing my teeth and putting on my jammies." I said, "Look down at yourself." He did. He said, "Oh," and went to start on his jobs. Two of them.