I (don’t) love a parade.

As the weekend was winding to a close last night, we were sitting on the deck with some friends after dinner and the moms were making happy murmurings that it was “almost” bedtime.

I looked at my watch, looked at my daughter inside the kitchen doing some kind of crazy dance for our benefit, and said, “Wow. She’s in a great mood now, but she’s going to crash in a very. big. way. soon and it’s going to be ugly. She’ll come crying to our room, saying she “can’t” sleep, and she’ll work herself up into quite  a state.” And we sort of chuckled, and shook our heads….she’s 11, after all. And our friend, the pediatrician jokingly said, “Lithium,” at the same time that I said, “Just need a little something to even things out,” and we laughed.

Then I said to Husband, “Well, the weeping’s going to happen, but it’ll probably come as part of the Parade of Maladies,” to which our friends said, “What?” I explained that after the kids are “tucked in” and we’ve done the whole good night routine, approximately 75% of them will return, one by one, to our bedroom to present — for our remedy — some kind of complaint (usually physical). They generally do not come together (unless one hurt another), and therefore they can string out the visits for long spans of time — sometimes over the course of an hour or more. Thus, The Parade of Maladies.

Univ of Nebraska

A sampling of recent entrants in the parade, and our generally not-so-empathetic response:

“My big toe hurts,” —- “That’s okay, you should be lying down now anyway.” —-  “But it really hurt when I walked down the hall to see you,”  —– “You can probably guess what I’m going to say, right?” —-  “G’night.”

“Can I have a bandaid? My finger is bleeding. I hurt it today in the pool,” —- “I’m not sure that you need a bandaid to handle that; you haven’t been in the pool for hours,”  — “But it really hurts and I need a bandaid…”

“When the dog jumped on me this morning he scratched me, and now it hurts really badly when I move my arm,” — “I’m not sure why you are moving your arm, it’s now bedtime.” —- “I don’t know either, but it just hurts.”

There are more along the same vein….but here are two from just last night and these are my new favorites:

“Mom, my right nostril is clogged and it’s really bugging me. See?” (loud snotty sniff) — “I’m sure it’s from swimming so much today. You’ll be fine. Just lie down.” “That’s why you have two nostrils, anyway,” (husband added that one) —- “Ok….”   {15 minutes later:} “Now the other one is clogged and the right one is okay,” — “I don’t know what to say. Just go lie down.”

The all time winner: {15 minutes after the nostril issues… same child}

“Mom, remember when Dr. A was talking about heart attacks and he said that you could have pain in your fingers? Well, these fingers hurt and I’m worried I’m having a heart attack.” —- “You’re not having a heart attack,” —- “But these fingers really hurt and he said that’s a symptom!” — “Daughter, I know you are not having a heart attack because you are an 11 year old girl, and generally they do not have heart attacks. You did a lot of exercise this weekend in the pool and your body is very very tired. Please go to sleep,” — “But I can’t sleep,” — and the weeping begins.

Cue the garbage trucks to start cleanup. This parade’s over until next bedtime.

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2 Responses to “I (don’t) love a parade.”

  1. Chelsea Says:

    Hi there
    Thank you for stopping by my site :) I pretty much LOVE your blog :) :)
    <3 <3

  2. Melissa Says:

    You have it easy. I have one child who can drag out the bedtime dramatics until morning.

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