Last night we put her to bed (quite a ritual that's turned out to be - *see more on this below) and she decides to literally put her ear to the wall to listen to us work in the next bedroom (we're cleaning stuff out to make room for the next baby). Catching her red-handed (or red-eared) she looked at me with big eyes, flopped down on her bed, and pretended to be asleep. Very much like her mother has tried to do in the past (pretend to sleep) and she lasted about as long.
I knelt next to her bed and told her she needed to go to lay down in her bed, even if she wasn't tired. It worked, but she's such a ham sometimes. She gave me a kiss but said "I only give you one kiss cuz I haf save some for tomorrow morning."
What a nut.
** The Evening Ritual **
So putting Elizabeth to bed has always been a struggle since she was a baby. We were lucky in that she began sleeping through the night early on, but she has taken a bit of each of her parents. From me, she's taken on the role of a night-owl. She has no issues in staying up until 9 (sometimes later) but will get grouchy if she's too tired. From Yvonne, she's taken on the role of early bird. When she wakes up on her own, she'll be wide awake and full of energy. When we wake her up, she's groggy and grumpy, like me.
Once we finally get her into the "mood" of bedtime (simply saying it's almost time for bed is usually where we start), we need to change clothes. Some nights we'll give her a bath ("get me a bath" as she says). After stripping out of the day clothes, we sit on the toilet. She's progressing quite well with the potty training (several number 2's on the toilet already).
After that, it's time to put on the PJs, jammies, jammers, what-ever the name-of-the-week is. Then the ritual begins. I generally try to leave the bathroom light on as it leaves her room lit at a medium level when we turn out her lights. Then we all go into her room. She'll turn on "Mommy's music" (an Enya CD) and climb into bed. When she doesn't want to go to bed, she'll stop a good step away from the CD player and say she "can't reach it." What a faker!
Once into bed, we pull the blankets up and turn the lights out. There's a little night light next to her bed, so she still has some light in the room. She has Baby (a Cabbage Patch doll), Little Dora (a small, stuffed Dora), and now Diego (a small, stuffed Diego that matches Dora). If any of these are missing, trouble ensues. Most nights, she also needs tissues. Three to be precise. Sometimes the ones already in her bed are fine, sometimes they're too crumpled.
Added to these requirements is the Towel, a Steelers Terrible Towel. This must be laid out on top of her pillow, just like a blanket. One night she even said I put it on wrong and said the tag needed to be on the other end. Oh, and the writing on the towel needs to be facing down too.
So, the kid's in bed, the light is out, the music is playing, and she has her stuffed toys. We each kiss her good-night, sometimes hug her, and sometimes we get a return kiss or hug. Then we say "good night" and "see you in the morning" before leaving the room, which is when I'll turn out the bathroom light.
Sometimes she'll try to be sneaky and say she needs to use the potty, get a drink, or needs more tissues. Generally all after she's been in bed for a few minutes. We have been able to break her of the habit of us turning the music back on when it finishes. She now has to turn it on if she wants to hear it again. And she also knows the number 11, as that's the last track on the CD.
Thus ends the evening ritual.
And finally, we have the box of old family photos and letters from my Aunt Mary. It's a treasure trove of history and information.
And finally, we have the box of old family photos and letters from my Aunt Mary. It's a treasure trove of history and information.
