Henry & Elliot have been sharing a room now for about two months. It's been an...adventure. Our strategy for getting and keeping the boys in bed has changed quite a few times and I've laughed and cried.
In the midst of some craziness and frustration, the beauty of the room sharing is the friendship arising. Bedtime sometimes seems like the only time of day that no one is crying, hitting, or taking toys. Even though I want them to sleep, I do love to hear them giggling and having fun together.
The problem is this: give then an inch and they take a mile. The giggling and whispering quickly turns into book throwing and room escapes to run laps around the house. It's maybe how sometimes riots start from peaceful demonstrations?