I gave up last night and just let him watch TV with us until he eventually drifted off at 11pm - it gives me nightmares of years from now when he has to go to school and he's just going to stay up all night and be a terrible student because we can't control him. Then that will naturally lead to a few more years later being locked in the Dr. Phil house with other terrible parents who can't control their children and they'll get their little surveillance camera footage of me crying and pleading "JUST GO TO SLEEP, BEN! PLEEEEEASE!" Dr. Phil will probably be dead by then (not that I'm wishing it on him or anything, it's just going to be a while from now and he's no spring chicken) so the new Dr. Phil will be his skeezy son who married the playmate who is pregnant along with her other 2 sisters - they are triplets, people, pregnant Playboy triplets. This is what my life is coming to.
Marcel is rocking Ben now and I keep hearing him ssssshhhhh'ing because he has yet to learn that typical soothing techniques just egg the boy on. Every now & then there will be a "Stop pinching me!" because Ben loves to pinch the hell out of us with his wee devil claws and every now & then I hear hysterical giggling/whining from the sleepiest, most overtired baby on earth. It's gotten oddly quiet back there now so either they've killed each other in the grand sleep standoff or Marcel is fashioning my Mother of the Year tiara into a more masculine bracelet or keychain for himself.