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Happy Halloween everyone!

I was talking about kids’ bedtimes with another mom the other day and she told me her 6-year-old is in bed at 7:45 and lights are out at 8 on school nights.

After I had a disturbing, yet satisfying, fantasy about smacking her, I realized I’ve been drinking my own bedtime Kool Aid. I say the girls’ bedtime is at 8, but really that’s just when they are getting good and hyper tired and Miss A is starting to climb on to furniture and scream Hannah Montana songs and I start asking threatening them to put on their pajamas. Then we usually crawl in bed about 8:15 for a bedtime story and it’s about 8:45 before anyone is asleep. Miss A, especially, is a night owl and has been known to wander out into the hallway well after 9.

Last night hubby and I were determined to get the girls in bed by 8 as Miss C’s been fighting a cold. We have a beautiful classical music CD collection that I listened to while I was pregnant with both girls that Miss A even refers to as the “night nights music.” I started playing the CD pretty early and the girls were in their pajamas by 7:45. Teeth were even brushed before 8. Oh the insanity!

As I read the girls a Beatrix Potter book, The Tailor of Gloucester, hereby known as the longest freaking book in the history of children’s literature with words on every page, such as pippin, that I had to stop and define and couldn’t help but do so in a fake British accent, I noticed Miss C’s breathing was becoming heavier. I tucked Miss A into her bed and told her I’d be back in five minutes  to check on her.

Ten minutes later Miss C called out that she wanted the hubby to come check on her.

Twenty minutes later, after the hubby had checked on Miss C, I peeked in on Miss A. She was awake but in a thumb sucking trance so I snuck down the hallway to Miss C’s room, certain she’d be sound asleep.

“Mommy come lay down with me. I can’t fall asleep,” Miss C begged in her most pitiful voice as I popped my head in her room.

“Miss C I thought you were really, really tired. You need lots of rest so you feel good for Halloween night.”

“I know mommy, but we went to bed too early. I can’t sleep if I’m in bed too early. This is what happens!”

Kids…can’t get them to go to sleep before 8:30 p.m., can’t pump them full of Benadryl.

What time do your kids go to bed and what are their ages? I don’t get Miss C up until about 6:50 in the morning since I don’t take her to school until 7:40, so I supposed I could get her up earlier, but that’s my morning solitude with uninterrupted coffee time and it’s precious people.

Miss A doesn’t have a shy bone in her body. Last Halloween, when she was barely 2 ½, while many kids her age were struggling just to master the “Trick or Treat” chant without getting tongue tied, she charged ahead of all of us, her stuffed kitty tail wagging behind her, toward the first house of the evening. The grandmotherly woman who came to the door greeted her with a bowl of candy and a big smile. Miss A smiled back and without hesitation looked up at her and said, “Hi, I’m Miss A. What’s your name?” For a few seconds I had visions of her as a politician, but I digress.

It hasn’t been too surprising, then, that Miss A has recently started with the love talk when provoked by her big sister. You know the silly “Do you have a boyfriend?” teasing which always elicits responses like “Ohhhhh Miss A is in loooooooove. She’s gonna get married. Ewwwwwwwww” from Miss C.

Miss A’s first love interest was Danny With The Red Hair (not to be confused with the other Danny in her class.) Now apparently she has set her sights on Michael, an older man in the 4-year-olds’ class whom she met on the playground. The hubby was dropping her off one morning last week and her class was already outside. Miss A took the hubby’s hand and led him straight to a little blonde haired boy and said, “Daddy, that’s Michael!” Michael didn’t say anything in return, but instead immediately ran away. Maybe he’s not used to younger women being so forward.

The hubby came home that night to tell me all this and said, “I’m so screwed. My 3-year-old daughter just introduced me to her boyfriend.”

They had me at chocolate and caramel.

For this week’s Bloggy Giveaways Carnival I give you chocolate and caramel, no really I do.

Wanna win a Chex Mix Bars Basket of Indulgence that you can keep all for yourself while your kids gorge themselves silly on Halloween loot? It includes a box of the new delicious Turtle Chex Mix Bars, which have less than 150 calories per bar and 8 grams of whole grain per serving, and pampering treats like chocolate candles, caramel lotion and spa essentials like a loofah, hand massager, nail brush, and spa towel.

SIX, yes six, lucky BlondeMomBlog readers will win a Basket of Indulgence! Just leave a comment on this post by midnight Friday, October 31, telling me why you’d like to win. For two chances, link to my giveaway. A random winner will be selected from all comments (U.S. residents only); please make sure you leave a valid e-mail address so I can contact you, should you be one of six lucky mamas to win a chocolate and caramel theme basket courtesy of General Mills and Chex.

I’ve also got a second fabulous contest going on at my alter ego, Savvy Housewife, for a secret weapon from  My Family Meal Planner that will make you super mama in the kitchen!

Welcome to my little episode of “When Moms Screw Up.” Please sit down and make yourself comfortable.

About two weeks ago Miss C got an invite for a party from a school friend she absolutely adores. I RSVPd promptly, wrote the time on my planner and blocked out the evening for the hubby on his calendar so he could have a “date” with Miss A. All along I had the time 6 p.m. in my mind, even though my mom commented that that seemed a little late for a kids’ party.

We left “early” and when we pulled into the skating rink parking lot I noticed Miss C’s friend’s mom out at her car and thought, “Cool…we’re here just in time. Not too early, not too late.”

When we walked in the teenager at the counter said they were closing in 15 minutes, but I assumed the rink had been rented out and we went in and scouted out the crowd. Miss C’s friend’s mom rushed over to say hi. “So glad you’re here…what happened? Did you get a ticket for skates? Do you want some cake?”

And then it dawned on me. The party was ENDING at 6 p.m.

Miss C asked me what was wrong and I explained to her I’d made a mistake on the time and we were late and then she started crying and the mom and I did the best we could to salvage a shitty moment. She brought Miss C a big piece of birthday cake and Miss C’s friend gave her the biggest hug in the world. I had to apologize and explain I had the time wrong on the hubby’s online calendar and never cross checked it with my planner.

The mom invited Miss C over one day soon for a playdate after school and I promised the girls we’d all go skating one weekend. Then Miss C and I met the hubby and Miss A at our local pizza parlor and we found that Miss C’s disappointment was nothing some pepperoni pizza and a shameful amount of quarters blown on air hockey and video games couldn’t make at least a little bit better.

Fridays are my laundry catch up days and I realized as soon as I started on the second load that we were out of detergent. Then I remembered I had some laundry soap nuts in my swag bag from last weekend’s BlissDom conference. So I got them out, read the instructions, and tossed them into the small cloth bag to be thrown in with the washload.

The hubby called as I was figuring out the soap nuts.

“Hold on I’m trying to get these nuts in the bag.”

What?

“I’m trying to get these soap nuts in the bag.”

What are soap nuts?

“You use them instead of detergent. They’re actually berries from India.”

Later my mom called and I told her I was using soap nuts.

How do you know they’re working? Do they suds up?

“Well, you squeeze them and this white foamy stuff comes out and when that runs out you compost them.”

And that pretty much sums up my Friday. Squeezing nuts all in the name of clean clothes.

What you really need to see is a video of Miss A and Miss C running around the house after they ate the Pop Rocks, but alas there is no video footage of Girls Gone Wild on Pop Rocks, only photographic documentation of Miss A’s first Pop Rocks encounter.

p.s. I got all arty fartsy with the photo thanks to a cool website I read about over at Amy’s place. Yeah, yeah I’m always late to the party.

On Friday when I picked Miss A up from daycare she and her friends were gathered around their teacher, unusually attentive for that late in the day “let’s go crazy and party like it’s 1999″ hour in preschool-ville. Then I realized she had promised them a chance to pick a prize out of the treasure box if they were quiet. Bribery…it works!

As I signed her out, Miss A fished around in the treasure box and pulled out a small green plastic snake. When we got in the car she was proudly waving her snake around.

“Miss A, what’s your snake’s name?” I asked.

“Party Gold Sparkles!”

Clearly she has a future as a Vegas showgirl, a strip club manager, or a member of the OPI nail polish color name creator team. Or maybe it’s just time to take a break from My Little Pony for a while.