For those poor, suffering parents of unruly bedtime toddlers who think “Go The Fuck to Sleep” was written for you, guess what? You’re fucking wrong.
Look, we’ve all been through the toddler years, and everyone knows they are the worst years in the history of ever. They don’t want to get in the bath. They don’t want to get out of the bath. Fuck, they don’t even want to put on the fuzzy jammies you bought them after they practically threw down at Target because you weren’t going to get them. All you want to do is yell at them and say, “Look, you little shit. I’ve had enough. Go the fuck to bed!” And then there are times when you are 100% willing to just let them climb on the counters, eat ice cream, and shit themselves while you hide in the closet with a bottle of wine, because the fight just isn’t worth it. I get it, your life as a parent between the hours of 7 and 9 pm sucks some serious ass. Boo hoo, we will all be over here singing a sad song for you…right after your kid hits 9 years old. Why? Because a 9-year-old at bed time is 10 times worse than a toddler.
Did you know that a 9-year-old only has to shower once a week? Once every two weeks if they don’t smell “that” bad. At least that’s what they will have you believe. You, “Take a shower.” Them, “Why?” You, “Because you stink.” Them, “But I took one yesterday.” You, “I don’t care. You stink. Take a shower.” Them, “Why?” You, “Because you smell like my ass, your feet are black, your hair is grey from who the hell knows what, and because I fucking said so.” Guess who’s going to bed without a shower? It’s not going to be you. You might as well use all that hot water you just saved by them not taking a shower, and draw yourself a nice hot bubble bath…to drown yourself in.
Tell me honestly, have you even had a conversation with a 9-year-old? I’m talking a real, honest to God conversation? Unless you’ve had one, I’m going to go ahead and guess you haven’t. First of all, they’re fucking smart. They will talk you out of anything if you’re not actually paying attention. You know that half-ass listening thing you toddler parents do? Yeah, stop doing that. If you don’t learn to be an active listener now, you’ll find yourself at 9pm with a 9-year-old sitting next to you playing Minecraft on the couch because you thought it would be cute to lie and say didn’t know what 12 times 12 is, losing a bedtime bet.
12 x 12 is 144, in case you didn’t know. By the time you realize you’ve been had by someone who isn’t even 5 feet tall yet, it will be too late to renege on your bedtime bet.
Even if you do decide to renege on your bedtime bet, what are you going to do? Carry them upstairs like when they were 3? Yeah…no. Aside from being fucking smart, they’re fucking squirrely little bastards. A three year old in the middle of a tantrum has nothing on a wiry 9 year old who just ate their weight in macaroni and cheese, yet could slip through the smallest of holes. They’re like Gumby, come to life. They will bend and twist their way out of the strongest of choke holds. All the while taking full advantage of their low center of gravity, and taking you out at the knees as they duck and run. Unless you sit on them, as they are playing Minecraft, you will not be able to overpower them.
Let’s say you actually get them showered, up the stairs, to their room, and in bed. Remember how I said they were fucking smart? Now they’re going to remind you just how smart they are. “But mom…can’t I read just one more chapter in my book?” You know, the book that has been sitting on their desk for over a month with a half inch of dust on it? Yeah, that one. Regardless, you puff up your chest, stroke your ego for raising such a scholastic child, and them, “Of course you can!” Thirty minutes later, you go to check on them. That fucking little shit is playing Minecraft! You burn all the books, and send the tablet to some third world country for kids without internet to play with.
Once you’ve gotten used to them smell of the stank child you gave birth to 9 years ago, talked your way out of a bet, drop kicked said 9-year-old, and burned everything in their room, you finally get them tucked in and quiet. You try to hug them; they duck out of the way. You try to kiss them on the forehead; they magically slip under the bed. Holy shit! Get the fuck back into your bed, you unruly child before I make you breathe deeply with this pillow shoved in your face. And for fucks sake, give your mother a fucking hug and a kiss!
So, parents of toddlers, heed my words. Start paying attention to what is actually coming out of that little shit’s mouth, go to the gym to get swoll, and start carrying around a portable camping shower because your gonna fucking need it in 6 to 8 years. Enjoy your time, and your excuse to drink, now because once they hit 9…you won’t have enough brain left to figure out how to even pour that wine into a glass.