Let's just say that my children do not share the same aversions to sleepovers that I once did. They LOVE them and are constantly
This weekend, while my husband is away on a business trip to London, I hosted a sleepover for my kids with two of their friends. Things went wonderfully smooth (well, if you call noisy excitement going on for hours smooth.)
Their energy was endless...until the bewitching hour began with my little Miss Monkey. I give her credit, it didn't occur until around 11 pm (two hours beyond her normal bedtime). She was clearly tired, and desperately wanted to fall asleep on the air mattress we set up in the living room with all the other kids. But her brother and his friend were making "noises" while playing on the computer (they were actually just whispering, but to her it was a major annoyance). After three trips upstairs to my room to complain, she finally relented and decided go to sleep alone in her bedroom at midnight (perhaps she's more like her mother than I once thought ;o)
The next morning, after making breakfast for everyone, I snuck upstairs to take a shower. When I came downstairs, I was greeted by the world's largest fort (perhaps a slight exaggeration, but it encompassed my ENTIRE living room, study and part of the kitchen).
To the kids it was the BEST. FORT. EVER. (Complete with several different 'rooms') To me...well, let's just say that I tried to remain calm with the disaster that had just erupted in my house.
The best part was that the kids actually helped clean up the