Another Bedtime Rebellion

For more than a week now, Van and I have been having a little trouble with bedtime. I can understand that, to him, it seems unfair to have the earliest bedtime just because he’s the youngest. However, I don’t base the kids’ bedtimes on ages. I base them on how much sleep they seem to need to get up and function each morning. Right now, Van seems to need between nine-and-a-half and ten hours.

Before Parker moved in, we didn’t have any trouble with an 8:30 PM bedtime. When Van shared a room with Bryce, he seemed to accept that Bryce had a later bedtime. I don’t know if his new resistance came about because he’s getting older or because he and Parker are so close to the same age.

Functionally, Van and Parker have the same bedtime since I usually end up tucking them in about the same time. Technically, Parker’s bedtime is a bit later. What normally happens is that both boys have had their baths and are ready for bed; then I tuck in Van and read their story. While I’m finishing with Van, Parker can go brush his teeth or something; then he comes back and I tuck him in as well. The actual rules are that Van has an 8:30 bedtime, but Parker’s is 8:45. I didn’t think it was a big deal.

Apparently I was wrong.

Last week, Van’s occasional grumbling became a full-grown protest. I managed to talk him out of pushing too hard that time. Instead, I offered him a compromise where we’d test him for a week and then decide if he could stay up later or not. He agreed to that, though he almost ended up over my lap when I wouldn’t let him stay up later that night.

It had occurred to me that the real problem wasn’t whether Van could stay up until 8:45, but whether he could get by on less than ten hours sleep. Instead of letting him stay up late to test it, I put him to bed at the regular time, then woke him fifteen minutes early.

He was not amused.

One thing I tried to explain to Van was that the important thing to him was that he got to stay up later. However, to me, the important thing was that I still had my bright and cheerful boy who could go to school, stay awake, and pay attention, and then come home and play.

The mornings last week didn’t go especially well. I had to remind Van every morning why I was waking him early. He would sit in the kitchen and sip juice. He wasn’t exactly surly or sulky, but he certainly wasn’t my bright and cheerful boy. Bryce even tried to help, asking Van to help him prepare the toast so Bryce could do other things. Van would do as he was asked, but was quiet and a bit slow.

I realize that waking early isn’t the same thing as staying up late, but I didn’t know how to test it. When Van lay back down after I woke him Thursday morning, I knew it wasn’t working, so I didn’t even try to wake him early Friday. When he did get up, just fifteen minutes later, he was his normal, happy self. I knew right then that we’d stay with his regular bedtime for a while longer.

Apparently Van didn’t draw the same conclusions from our little experiment.

When bedtime arrived last night, Van protested. He also misquoted me terribly, since I know I never made any promises about his bedtime.

"No, Van," I said, trying to be patient. "What I said was that we’d try it, and if it worked, you could stay up later."

"But you didn’t let me stay up."

I reminded him of what we’d done the previous week and on what I was judging it. He didn’t think it was a fair test. Maybe it wasn’t, but as far as I can see, the little guy pretty much needs ten hours right now. Really, he doesn’t even need that much, since with tucking him in and story time running a bit longer, he doesn’t really go to sleep at 8:30. Still, that time as a goal seemed to be working great, and I saw no reason to change it. And that led directly to another protest, more forceful this time.

"Ivan James, you come here right now," I said forcefully, making a conscious effort to not raise my voice, and pointing at the floor right in front of me.

Even without raising my voice, Van quailed a bit. I don’t use his full name often, so it wouldn’t take much for him to realize I was upset.

When he was standing in front of me, I knelt down, gently took his arms, and looked into his eyes.

"Van, we talked about your bedtime, we tried you not getting as much sleep, and it didn’t seem to work. I’m sorry that you’re not happy with that, but I think this is for the best, and since I’m the Daddy, I have to make the decision."

"Now, I’m willing to talk with you about things, and I’m willing to try to find a way to make everyone happy; but we tried, and it didn’t work. This is how we’re going to do things for now, and I’ve made up my mind. Does arguing with me and refusing to do what you’re told ever make me change my mind?"

He looked at me for a second, and then reluctantly shook his head.

"Does it ever get you spanked?"

This time, looking a bit apprehensive, as if he wasn’t sure if he’d already gone too far, he nodded.

"Do you want a spanking?"

This time the shake of his head was quick and sure.

"Then you need to get in the tub now."

I paused to see if he was going to renew his protest. When he didn’t, I went on.

"Would you like me to help you get ready?"

He wasn’t happy about it, but was apparently willing to accept a little extra attention since he couldn’t get his way.

I picked him up and moved over to the bed, where I started to undress him. As I got him down to his undies, I gave him a little back rub and some tickles, and then sent him to get in the tub.

Parker had been picking up his toys while all this went on, and I gave him a little attention before going to check on the older boys’ chores.



A while later, Van and Parker were both clean and smelled of Irish Spring as I laid Winnie The Pooh to the side (turns out Parker had only seen the cartoons, and Van was more than willing to listen again).

While I was bent down, tucking Parker in, the bed above me shifted, and I heard Van’s feet hit the floor.

"You’re supposed to be in bed, Van."

"I forgot to brush my teeth," he replied.

"You told me you’d already done that."

"I thought I did."

I stood there, rather impatient, as he brushed his teeth (again?); but he really did it and wasn’t wasting too much time, so I didn’t complain. When he was through, I put him back in bed and tucked the covers up. He insisted I go through the entire ritual again. I wasn’t sure that was a great idea, but I tried to relax and just go with it.

With both boys tucked in, I started out of the room. Before I got halfway to the door, Van hopped up again.

"Get back in bed right now, Van."

"I gotta pee."

There didn’t seem to be much use arguing with that, so I stood aside while he handled that detail. As he came back into the bedroom, I warned him.

"You’d better not get out of that bed again, Ivan James, so if you want a drink of water…"

He had the grace to look a bit sheepish as he sipped out of the faucet, and then let me help him back into bed. This time I tucked the covers around him, but refused to repeat the ritual, since I knew he was just killing time.

"What time is it, Dad?"

"It doesn’t matter because it’s past time for you to be asleep. Now close your eyes and do not get up again unless it’s a real emergency. Understand me?"

I crossed the room and this time reached the door and flipped off the light. I didn’t even have the door shut behind me when a light flicked on in the bedroom. Pushing the door open again, Van had sat up in bed and turned on his reading light. He paled as I headed back across the room.

"I just wanted to see what the next Pooh story was gonna be."

"I think you wanted to see how far you could push things, and now you’ve found out."

I started pulling the sheets back, and Van started getting a little worried.

"I’ll go to bed now, Dad."

"No, now you’re going to get spanked."

"No, Daddy."

"Yes, Van," I said, lifting him off the bed.

He squirmed a bit as I carried him around the bed. Holding him with one arm, I pulled the spanking chair into position, then sat him on his feet while I sat down, then pulled him onto my lap.

"Please, Dad. I don’t wanna spanking. I’ll go to bed now. I promise."

"Van, you know that I never spank you for what you’re going to do, do I?"

"No, sir."

"I spank you for things you’ve already done, right?"

He nodded.

"I tried to be patient with you this evening, Van. I know you weren’t happy that I’m not letting you stay up later. I didn’t say anything when you kept hopping out of bed; but you know that the rule is, you get ready for bed, and after I tuck you in, you stay there, don’t you?"

His eyes were welling up with tears, but he nodded.

Van wasn’t looking at me anymore, so I took his chin between my thumb and forefinger and gently turned him back to me.

"Did you do what you’re supposed to do tonight?"

"No."

"Did you break the rules?"

He nodded as a tear started to trickle down his cheek.

"And what happens when boys break the rules?"

"They get spanked," he answered in a strained whisper.

"That’s right."

I paused for a second and set Van on his feet, then took his briefs, and slid them down his legs. He stepped out of them almost automatically. I tossed them onto the desk, then looked back at him.

"Would you go get the Tail Blazer, please?"

He whimpered softly, but started across the room. Partway between me and the door, he stopped, then looked back, almost guiltily, over his shoulder, not at me, but at Parker. Then he deviated from his path and walked to the dresser. Van picked up the Spanky Bear, tucked it into his left arm, and then continued to the door.

Taking the Texas Tail Blazer from the wall, Van turned and walked slowly back to me. It was very cute because he had Spanky Bear tucked tightly against his chest, held wrapped in his left arm, but he was holding the Tail Blazer at the very end of the handle and held slightly away from his body. It was a definite display of how he felt towards each.

When he arrived at the chair, he reluctantly held the paddle out to me. As soon as I took it, he wrapped his right arm around Spanky as well, then turned. Even though he’s big enough to climb across my lap on his own now, he’s still small enough for me to lift him into place, so that’s how we often do it.

I tucked the Tail Blazer under my leg, then took Van by his hips, lifted him, and laid him across my lap. As soon as he was down, I scooted him forward a bit. He wiggled for a second, moving himself just a hint towards my knees, then settled.

I lifted the paddle again, but then stopped. Instead, I switched it to my left hand and began to rub Van’s round, firm, but slightly chubby bottom with my hand. One of the best things about the way I spank is that it offers plenty of ways to make a spanking easier or harsher, while keeping it in a reasonable zone. My first impulse was to go all the way this evening and make sure Van knew he’d gotten a super-deluxe grande spanking. That’s not because he’d been arguing about my decision or about him refusing to go to sleep. The simple fact is, at least to me, this was directly related to Van’s occasional urge to willful defiance. Some people would say he’ll grow out of it or he’ll learn to stop it, and either of those might be true. However, I think it’s crueler to risk letting him grow up thinking the world is going to bend to his whims than it is to spank him now so he’ll know that’s not true.

No, my real consideration tonight wasn’t what he deserved, but the fact that he was about to cry himself to sleep. In some cases, I have no trouble with giving a boy a spanking that would keep him stinging and tender for a long while after the actual spanking was over. There was no way I was going to spank him so hard he’d still be feeling it the next morning (I suppose I could have, but not without it being abusive, which wasn’t going to happen). That meant there was no use in giving him the spanking I thought he really deserved.

With a goal in mind, I switched the paddle back to my right hand.

"Are you listening to me, Van?"

"Yes, sir."

"I understand you were upset that I decided not to let you stay up later right now. However, being upset does not give you a right to do whatever you want to do, and it certainly doesn’t give you the right to break the rules. I know you don’t like getting spanked any more than I like to spank you, but you’re going to have to realize that’s what’s going to happen when you break the rules. Understand me?"

"Yes, sir," he choked out, half sob.

With that, the paddle came up and down.

I like the Tail Blazer because it has a smaller blade and is actually much easier to control on his little bottom. I don’t have to be as worried about where the smacks overlap, because there’s much less overlap to worry about.

Like always, the paddle started at the top of his crack and worked to the smile of his bottom in three swats. Then I started on each cheek, working from the top down, left and then right.

As I went back to the area between both cheeks, I glanced up and saw Parker, sitting upright, watching the action intensely. With only Van’s light on, Parker’s lower bunk was very shadowed, so I didn’t have a good look at his face, but I think he was feeling a lot of different, sometimes conflicting, emotions as he saw his little brother getting spanked.

By the time I placed a couple of swats towards the sides of each cheeks, then made one more pass down the center, Van was already crying. Van was reddening only slowly, since the swats were almost all wrist and mostly sting, but sting was more than enough for him, and he wasn’t shy about letting us know about it.

He’d been wiggling and squirming almost from the start, but as I placed a couple of swats, angled towards the inside of his legs, then a couple of more on each leg, angled towards the outside, he started to really kick and fight. I had to take a tighter grip around his waist to keep him in place, but he never did let loose of Spanky Bear.

As the paddle made a second circuit around his bottom, Van started turning truly red. His crying kept growing harsher and louder, and at some point, he gently slipped across the line from crying to really bawling. I didn’t let that stop me, though. I wasn’t going to give him the top-of-the-line spanking I felt he really deserved, but I was going to make sure he was accompanied to sleep by a throbbing, burning sting in his tush.

Even though I only placed a couple of swats on each leg this time, he still found strength to yelp and kick a bit. He started to relax a bit, but shrieked when he felt the paddle line up on his left sit spot. One, two, three firm swats to the left side, then three more to the right, and a final flurry of rapid shots, back and forth between both. Van howled through all of those last strokes.

I put the paddle down behind me, then gently rubbed Van’s bottom for a moment, enjoying the heat coming off the cute, sore little bottom, then I gently lifted him to sit in my lap.

As I lifted him, my head came up, and Parker quickly dropped flat onto his bed.

As soon as Van was sitting up, he squashed the Spanky Bear between us. I wrapped my arms around him and gently held him against me. After a moment, Van’s right arm came from between us to reach around me.

We sat that way for a few minutes until the boy’s crying began to calm. Then I picked him up and carried him into the bathroom. I sat him down just long enough to wash his face and help him blow his nose. He was still crying a bit, but I knew he’d feel a lot better in the morning for even a partial clean up.

It’s hard to place a boy face down on his bed, especially on a top bunk, but I managed to get Van settled, though he did yelp and squirm a bit when I first placed him down. With him settled on his belly, I gently rubbed his bottom for a second, then leaned forward to kiss him again.

"Kiss Spanky, too," he instructed me, still crying just a bit, but already half asleep.

I leaned back down and kissed the bear.

As soon as he’d seen that done, Van’s eyes slowly drifted shut. Then I moved back and sat on Parker’s bed.

"Parker?"

He was tense, but quiet.

"I know you’re still awake, Buddy. Roll over and talk to me for a second."

He did.

"Are you going to spank me, Jack? I tried to go to sleep."

"I know you did, Buddy. I’m not going to spank you. You can’t always go to sleep right away, but you can be ready on time and stay in bed once I tuck you in, and you did those things."

I was quiet for a minute, in case he wanted to say something else. When he stayed quiet, I went on.

"What’d you think about watching Van’s spanking?"

I didn’t ask him if he’d watched. I hoped that sounding matter of fact about it would let him discuss it without feeling threatened.

"It was scary," he replied without much pause.

"Because I’ve spanked you before, and you know how much it hurts?"

He nodded.

"Did you know Van watched you get spanked before?"

"He did?"

"Yup. Remember when you and I had trouble with bedtime, but Van was already in bed?"

He thought about it for a second, and then nodded. With the dim light, it was hard to be sure, but I think he also blushed.

"Did I cry that loud?"

"Pretty much," I replied.

He looked away, seeming a bit embarrassed.

"Don’t worry about it too much, Parker. You’d be surprised how loud some of the older boys cry. Crying is what we do when something hurts, and it lets me know you’re learning a lesson."

"Oh," he responded, sounding a bit relieved.

"Anyway, it’s natural for you to watch a spanking like that when it happens right in front of you. What’s not natural is for you to tease someone about it. It happens to every boy in this family sooner or later, and usually fairly often. It’s something that happens because they needed to be reminded of the rules, and we don’t make fun of people for that. If someone does, well, then I remind them what a spanking’s like."

He didn’t answer me directly, but instead said, "Van didn’t make fun of me when I got spanked."

Maybe that was answer enough.

"Okay, now it really is time for you to go to sleep."

I snuggled him back under the covers, then gently rubbed his shoulders until he drifted off. I carefully stood, put the chair back where it went, and lifted the paddle. I paused when I went back to Van’s bed to turn off the light. He was snoring just a bit through his stuffy nose, but seemed to be sleeping all right. I adjusted the covers, made sure my path to the door was clear, then turned out the light.

As the light flicked out, leaving me only the dim illumination from the bathroom, Spanky’s glass eye made it look like he gave me a wink.





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