Tuesday Morning at My House

Lately my children have been going to sleep later and later.  It seems that no amount of threatening or removal of privileges serves to encourage them to stop talking to each other and go to sleep already.

I guess I should be thankful that they're all getting along, but why does it only seem to happen between 9:00 and 10:00 at night, when at least two of them should already be asleep?

Last night, at about 9:45, I informed them that I didn't care anymore what time they went to sleep.  I was simply going to expect them to get up right when I woke them in the morning, no complaining.  Since I did this in my "Mom's disappointed in you" voice, I think they realized I meant business.

As a general rule, waking them up consists of me shaking them vigorously by whatever body part I can reach at the time (the setup of their beds - all three in one small room - is such that, if they're creative, at times they're not actually accessible to anyone less than a contortionist) and singing really obnoxious wake-up songs in a very chirpy voice, until they get out of bed just to make me stop.

This morning, I smoked them out instead.

 Oh, sourdough toast, how tasty you would have been.
Also, a new toaster is now at the top of my Christmas list.

It was the fastest I've seen them move before 9:00 in the morning.  Ever.  But they were all consequently ready to go on time today.  Possibly emotionally scarred for life, but ready to go on time.

In related news, I can take comfort in the fact that Ellie knows what to do if she ever catches on fire.  The first thing she did when the smoke alarms went off, before any smoke was even visible upstairs, was drop to the floor and start rolling around.