No matter the circumstances, my kids will never admit they are tired.
I shouldn’t even ask them anymore because their eyes always tell the story anyway. In the rare times the windows to the soul are not indicative, their actions usually confirm one way or the other.
For some reason, both are set in never admitting when they are exhausted and want to go to bed. It’s like they think it’s a weakness of some sort. They don’t get that from their parents because it seems like we are always saying how tired we are. As a matter of fact, I have found of late if left alone for a long period of time in a quiet place I will doze off more often than not, especially if at night.
Case in point was the other night when Beckett was reading a book at bedtime and I fell asleep in record time, prompting him to give me a slap and say, “can you wake up and help me with this word?” It was 8:30 p.m. and he was on the third page.
Like most locals, we have a good amount of visitors throughout the summer and last weekend was a busy one for us with several late nights for the kids (as well as the parents).
One night last weekend we had a bonfire on the beach in Ocean City and we didn’t leave until about 11. I know Carson has never been up that late and maybe once or twice before for Beckett on special occasions.
On the way home, Carson was acting more irrational than usual, and that’s a clear sign his lights may be on (eyes) but there’s clearly nobody home any longer because he’s overtired.
On the other hand, Beckett, who was sitting on his cousin’s lap, and his buddy Easton, on his dad’s lap, shared the same exhausted look on the way home. When I told Beckett it was okay to close his eyes, he fired back, “I’m not tired.” Easton chimed in (with eyes closed mind you), “neither am I.”
By the time we got home, both were asleep and Carson was bothering everyone else in the vehicle with his crazy antics.
Within five minutes of being home, both my kids were asleep in their beds oblivious to the sand they tracked with them and sure to find the sheets overnight.
When I recounted the story of carrying him up to bed the next morning, Beckett refused to believe it and said it didn’t happen. He was joking but once again a strange refusal to acknowledge being tired.
A couple days later after several long days, both kids were clearly feeling the disruption in their sleep routines. They were lethargic and that rarely happens.
Carson was content just playing in the sand for most of the day, while Beckett actually sat down in a beach chair under an umbrella and put his head on a blanket. I never asked him if he was tired. I just left him alone so as not to poke the proverbial bear.
For his part, Carson would rather just fall asleep anywhere than confess to being tired. He can go from crazy and wild to asleep in a matter of minutes. Erratic behavior that doesn’t make any sense is a sure sign he’s exhausted.
An example of this would be in Disney World earlier this year. It had become clear he just couldn’t hang anymore and threw a major temper tantrum when I picked him up to leave one of the parks. He knew his brother and mom were staying, but it was time for him.
What was unique here was similar situations were playing out all around me. Overtired kids were acting out and parents were scrambling to gather themselves to call it a night. Unfortunately, they, like us, didn’t time it well and had reached the explosive phase that can come with overtired little ones. In that case, misery indeed loves company.
Within minutes of being on the monorail, he was asleep in my arms for the night.
Sometimes parents do know best, and it sure feels great when that’s the case.
At some point over the last few months, Beckett has picked up the high-sock look.
Fortunately, we spend a lot of time on the beach and in the pool because otherwise I think we would have serious tan lines to worry about.
I assume he picked this up from playing soccer nine months out of the year. Either way, when he gets himself dressed these days, he almost always comes downstairs with socks pulled up to his knees. Sometimes, if the socks are oversized, they end up all the way to his thighs. I try — without much luck — to let him know that’s not a cool look. That doesn’t work (what do parents know?) so I go with the comfort angle and he agrees they are more comfortable below the knee.
Apparently Pam has gotten into it as well because the other day a package came in the mail that included socks from FC Barcelona, Real Madrid and Manchester United. We will see how long this trend lasts.