Score 1 for Magical Mama Abilities
I walked in the door last night a bit after 10pm. (That would be ten o'clock at night. After the sun went down. And the sky was dark.)
Big V was sitting in Cletus's bedroom, in the wing chair we affectionately have termed the Reading Chair, looking all verklempt. That is, if verklempt means that he looked like the walking dead, with his hair sticking out all over the place, exhausted, on the verge of tears and/or a complete nervous breakdown.
And there was Cletus. In his crib. Jumping as high as he could go singing, "AD DEE! AD DEE! AD DEE!" (which sounds just like Daddy without the beginning D. And also in a highly annoying pitch).
I looked over at V.
He looked at me.
I've been in here for two hours. He won't go to sleep.
Why are you just sitting here?
I'm making sure he goes to sleep.
Could you sleep if someone was sitting there, staring at you? Because I sure as hell couldn't. It's creepy.
And then I walked out. Because why the hell would I want to get involved in that nonsense?
But after another ten minutes of listening to jump! jump! jump! and AD DEE! AD DEE! AD DEE! and Go to bed. I told you it's time to go to bed. Stop jumping now and go to bed. I decided to help.
Hey, V, could you come here for a second?
(I heard the exasperated sigh from down the hall.)
And as Big V schlepped down the hall Cletus started with MOM! MOM! MOMMY! MOMMY! MOM! MOM! MOM! MOMMY! MOMMY! MOM! just. like. Stewie.
Standing against the counter I asked for an overall breakdown of what occurred during my absence that might have attributed to the scene I now found myself standing in.
I kept asking him if he wanted to go to sleep and he kept telling me no.
Uh... come again?
It kept getting later and later but every time I asked him if he wanted to go to bed he said no.
You do realize he's two. People who are two never want to go to bed. People who are two want to smash chocolate cake in their hair and lick the cat.
Well, what would you have wanted me to do?!
Might I suggest putting him in his bed at the same time and in the same was as every other night of his life. Feed him dinner, make him pick up his toys, give him a bath, put him in pajamas, read two books - no more; just two, or you'll be there all night - then put him in his bed and tell him to stay there. And ignore him when he kicks up a fuss - don't keep talking to him.
Oh, like that's going to work.
By the way, he's sleeping.
What?
He's sleeping now. Go ahead, go check on him.
And just like that the planets aligned and the kid magically fell asleep. I should have bought a lottery ticket.
Big V was sitting in Cletus's bedroom, in the wing chair we affectionately have termed the Reading Chair, looking all verklempt. That is, if verklempt means that he looked like the walking dead, with his hair sticking out all over the place, exhausted, on the verge of tears and/or a complete nervous breakdown.
And there was Cletus. In his crib. Jumping as high as he could go singing, "AD DEE! AD DEE! AD DEE!" (which sounds just like Daddy without the beginning D. And also in a highly annoying pitch).
I looked over at V.
He looked at me.
I've been in here for two hours. He won't go to sleep.
Why are you just sitting here?
I'm making sure he goes to sleep.
Could you sleep if someone was sitting there, staring at you? Because I sure as hell couldn't. It's creepy.
And then I walked out. Because why the hell would I want to get involved in that nonsense?
But after another ten minutes of listening to jump! jump! jump! and AD DEE! AD DEE! AD DEE! and Go to bed. I told you it's time to go to bed. Stop jumping now and go to bed. I decided to help.
Hey, V, could you come here for a second?
(I heard the exasperated sigh from down the hall.)
And as Big V schlepped down the hall Cletus started with MOM! MOM! MOMMY! MOMMY! MOM! MOM! MOM! MOMMY! MOMMY! MOM! just. like. Stewie.
Standing against the counter I asked for an overall breakdown of what occurred during my absence that might have attributed to the scene I now found myself standing in.
I kept asking him if he wanted to go to sleep and he kept telling me no.
Uh... come again?
It kept getting later and later but every time I asked him if he wanted to go to bed he said no.
You do realize he's two. People who are two never want to go to bed. People who are two want to smash chocolate cake in their hair and lick the cat.
Well, what would you have wanted me to do?!
Might I suggest putting him in his bed at the same time and in the same was as every other night of his life. Feed him dinner, make him pick up his toys, give him a bath, put him in pajamas, read two books - no more; just two, or you'll be there all night - then put him in his bed and tell him to stay there. And ignore him when he kicks up a fuss - don't keep talking to him.
Oh, like that's going to work.
By the way, he's sleeping.
What?
He's sleeping now. Go ahead, go check on him.
And just like that the planets aligned and the kid magically fell asleep. I should have bought a lottery ticket.
Comments
Also, C is the same way! "Oh, they weren't tired yet..." Yeah. Yeah they were. And keeping them up later isn't going to make them sleep in either. Nice try.
1.) We don't feed him wheat because of horrible skin rashes. Licorice has wheat.
2.) Bedtime is 7:30 and my lovely husband choose SUGAR to "sedate" the child?
3.) Once again, the kid gets treats from DADDY in the store.
I merely glared at him when Thing 1 was bouncing off the walls. Good times.