Dear Internet – I need your advice.
For the past several weeks, we’ve been having a problem with our oldest child coming into our room before 6:30 am.
He’s 6 years old.
He has a clock in his room.
He has a watch in his room.
He knows how to tell time.
He knows that he is not allowed to come into our room until after 6:30 during the week and after 7 am on the weekends. He knows that he can play in his room. He can read in his room. He can do pretty much anything he wants in his room.
He can go to the bathroom (which is right around the corner from his room).
The only rule is that he cannot come into our room until the designated time.
He is reminded of this rule every single night before he falls asleep.
Every. Single. Night.
And yet every single morning he comes into our room at least three times before 6:30 am.
It usually goes like this:
Stumble stumble stumble
Too-loud voice:MOM, Can I play in my room?
Me: It’s 5:45 am. Are you supposed to be in my room?
Him: I forgot.
Me: Go back to your room.
Him: But can I play in there?
Me: I don’t care what you do in there, just don’t come back in here until after 6:30.
Him: So I can play in there?
Even Steven: Go back to your room, son.
Loud Stomp, Loud Stomp, Loud Stomp, toilet seat crash, his door closing loudly.
pitter patter pitter patter pitter patter
Simon: Mom, is it time to get up?
Me: Simon, it’s the middle of the night. Let’s go back to bed.
Simon: I want to snuggle with you.
Me: Okay – I want to snuggle with you too.
Simon: suck thumb, suck thumb, suck thumb…
stomp stomp stomp stomp stomp
Miles: Mom, can Simon play in my room?
Me: It’s only 6 am. Stop coming in here.
Miles: But can Simon play in my room?
Simon: Can I?
Me: Go – both of you out of here – but stay out of Alice’s room and be quiet!
Miles & Simon: Thunder, Giggle, Boom, Giggle, BOOM, Squeal
Tap Tap Tap Tap Tap
Alice: Mom, can I play with the boys?
Me: Alice – it’s only 6:15 in the morning. Dad’s alarm hasn’t even gone off yet.
Alice: But can I play with them?
Me: Sure – but be quiet!
SCREAMING SCREAMING SCREAMING
Alice: MOM! The boys won’t let me play with them.
Alarm goes off.
It’s time to start the day.
I’m not even exaggerating when I tell you that it’s like this 9 out of 10 mornings.
We started a new rule that every time Miles comes into our room, he has to go to bed 15 minutes earlier.
But this didn’t work so well. While it stopped him from coming in for a 2nd or 3rd time, he still would forget and come in the first time – which would lead to Simon waking up – and the cycle starting all over.
And – when he’d go to bed 15 minutes earlier, he started waking up a little earlier too.
I don’t know about you, but when kids start talking to me before 6 am, I am GRUMPY!
I’ve been asking friends and family for their advice, but so far only my mom has weighed in.
Tell him that every time he comes into your room, you’re taking Alice and Simon to the toy store to pick out a toy. And he won’t get one.
Which pretty much makes her the worst grandmother on earth. And is also a little funny because she NEVER would have done something like that to me when I was little.
So – Internet – what’s your advice? Torture him at the toy store? Put up a gate in his room? Set my alarm for 5 am, so at least I’m waking up on my own and not because a 6-year-old is waking me up? Leave your ideas in the comments section – or on Facebook. And thanks in advance!
Last week, I called my mom to talk to her about her latest blog post, and my dad answered the phone.
We chatted a bit, and then he said, “Well, I’m going to pass you on to mom. I need to get back to writing my blog posts for when I take over your blog next week.”
That was pretty funny for my dad.
He’s more of the silent type – which fits pretty well with my mom’s personality.
While I’m not turning the blog over to him this week, I would like to share a little story about him.
When I was growing up, my dad had gas.
My mom still tells the story of me running errands with my dad and coming into the house sobbing.
My Mom: Anna, what’s wrong?
Me: SOB, It’s my doll. We have to throw her away. SOB
My Mom: But why? What happened?
Me: She just smells so bad!
At which point my mom looked up to see my dad laughing so hard he had tears streaming down his face.
Apparently the horror of being buckled into a car with the windows rolled up while my gassy dad farted his way around town was scarring enough for me to have completely blocked out the memory of that entire incident.
But I’ll never forget our nightly ritual.
Each night, my brother and I would go to bed, and dad would come upstairs to tuck us in.
He would read us books, tell us we were special – and fart.
They were silent, but oh, so deadly.
We’d scream and cry and try to hide under the covers, and my dad would laugh and fart and laugh and fart and laugh and fart.
The more we cried, the more he laughed.
And the more he laughed, the more he’d fart.
Inevitably, we would have to call for my mom to Bring the Powder.
She’d run upstairs and shoo my dad out of our rooms. And then proceed to sprinkle baby powder around until everyone could breathe again.
Luckily, my dad doesn’t smell anymore. But I always keep a can of baby powder handy during his visits – just in case!
Well – it’s official – my mom won the internet this week.
After all of her grumbling of me not living up to her blogging expectations, I surprised her by giving her my blog for a week. I announced this change via a public blog post, and one of my greatest regrets in life is that I didn’t record our morning conversation.
I had the rare pleasure of getting to listen in on the phone while she read the blog post.
And when she got to the end – and saw that she was going to be taking over for the week – I’ve never heard so much screeching and sputtering and oh my goshing in my life.
It was a moment that I will probably never forget – and I still can’t believe I didn’t have the foresight to record it. Oh well – maybe next time.
She kicked the week off with a bang by writing a blog post that pretty much solidifies her favortism of my brother. More than 12,000 people stopped by to read her first post, and she did not disappoint.
I think my favorite part was when she got a little snippy with someone in the comments – because it said “ANNA” and she assumed that was me – rather than the Anna that had actually left the comment. That really made my day.
Along with giving her my blog, I also gave her admin rights to my Facebook page and told her to post whatever she wanted.
On a related note, I lost hours of my life trying to teach her how to post a link from my blog onto Facebook.
She took advantage of my page to post a terrible picture of my infamous high school haircut – and to try to get everyone to share their favorite garage sale / thrifting locations with her.
On Tuesday, she shared 10 ways to tell if you’re a garage sale addict. And I just have to say that #2 is 100% true.
The sheer volume of her “treasures” terrifies me – and while it’d be nice for her to be healthy enough to hang out with me for the next 50 years – there is definitely part of me that really just wants her to get rid of everything before she passes.
She had her first heckler in the comments of that post (which kindof means she’s “made it” as a blogger), and she even received a comment from someone that sort of met her once. (Just read the comments to see what I mean – but very cool.)
And on Wednesday, she shared a zillion hilarious stories from her working days – and it appears that every single person that ever worked with her for those 30 years stopped by to read it.
And on Thursday, I don’t know what she did, but she managed to completely break my blog – leaving it down for about 4 hours right around lunchtime.
Between the comments, an eavesdropper, a heckler, and breaking the blog – I’d say my mom experienced it all.
All in all – she had right around 42,000 people check in to see what she wrote. And she had over 1300 shares on Facebook. In her first three days as a blogger, she pretty much killed it. Oh yeah – and we gained over 600 new followers on Facebook this week – and nearly that same amount on Pinterest.
And – she even remembered to thank her readers (which is SO important). She tried to post this on Thursday (when she broke my blog), so I’ll post it here for you now:
Well, my obligation has been fulfilled. My punishment is over. Anna might even let me see the grandkids again.
Writing a blog is a fun, nerve-wracking experience and although it’s much harder than I gave Anna credit for, I enjoyed it very much – thanks to a very kind, supportive audience.
I’m turning the reins back over to Anna now but she has asked me to guest post now and then so to my close friends – be afraid – be so afraid!
I’m also asking her to change the password on her FB page – that is way too tempting!!
Next time I’ll have more pictures and dirt on Anna – after all, that’s what people are really after. My version of the truth!
Thanks for a fun three days. Now to concentrate on my houseguest. (Her brother Nick – the Dr. – is here for a visit, in case you missed it.)
- Anna’s Mom
When I asked her how she found the inspiration to become a writer and blogger, do you know what she said?
Silk Vanilla Almondmilk helped me focus – and become a writer.
Silk Vanilla Almondmilk made me feel more creative and helped me find my funny.
Silk Vanilla Almondmilk helped me win the internet.
Did you really think I was going to let her get out of her week of blogging without a sponsored post? Not a chance.
It’s no secret that I’m a huge lover of Silk products (you may recall me writing about them here and here.) Ever since I went dairy and gluten free, I’ve been loving the Silk products – especially Silk Unsweetened Coconutmilk!
So now, my mom has officially done it all.
She drove lots of great traffic. Figured out how to use Facebook. Broke my blog. Dealt with hecklers. And now she’s been part of a sponsored post.
I think maybe she should try her hand at a viral video next…
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What was your favorite part about my mom’s internet domination?
This is a sponsored conversation written by me on behalf of Silk. The opinions and text are all mine.