It's a big surprise that we go to bed every night.

A few things I know about my kids:

• 2 feet tall
• 22 pounds
• learning a few new words every day (today's word was "robot") 
• learning to go potty like big kids
• love being outside
• sleeping in toddler beds
• eating a little better with utensils 
• could watch Finding Nemo 10 times a day

I'm their mom and they're smarter than I am.
Stronger than I am.
More devious than I am.
Never tired like I am.

I'm putting Josiah to bed first tonight after a nice bath, clean pjs, warm milk and cuddle time. When I go into their bedroom, he starts thrashing around. He's yelling and screaming and I try my best to hold onto him as I climb over the baby gate. Afraid I'll drop him, I lay him in bed. Because it's dark, I accidentally trip over the couch pillow (that's supposed to support him when he rolls out of bed) and fall face down onto the cushion. As I try to rub his back and give him the tag on his blanket, he's literally bucking and dodging me.

What in the world?

He's exhausted. He's sick. And he's acting like I'm trying to torture him.

Now, I'm not asking for advice, but who thinks that parenting is awesome on nights like these???