Recent Posts

Thursday, November 20, 2008

Party at my crib, 2 a.m.

Ahh, those onesies are too cute. Unless the meaning is literal.
Lately, my two-year-old daughter has discovered the joys of springing from her crib the minute our backs are turned and cruising around her room (or the rest of the house) when she’s supposed to be asleep. Since she is normally a very good sleeper and bedtime routine guru, we are a little weary of her new habit.

Let’s see … I put her to bed around 8:15. Hubs and I took bets on how soon she would be out of bed – he said one minute, I gave her 15. Needless to say, he was right. With her bedroom right above the living room, we can hear everything. At last count, between us we’ve put her to bed five times. And it’s only been about half an hour. Sigh
The last I knew, she was standing in the windowsill looking at the moon. Hey, that’s great. But you’re supposed to be in bed. And after dealing with two kids running around all day, being exhausted as it is, I just want to sit on the couch and eat potato chips and drink pop and watch House, M.D. already. Lord, at least give me that.
It's hard to get angry at her for it, though - and I think she knows it. That's why she uses psychology on us: by smiling very cutely, waving her little hand and saying, "Hi, mommy!" she thinks, "I'm cute. I know it. She can't possibly be mad at me when I'm doing something this cute!"
This morning, I asked my son if she had gotten up during the middle of the night. I knew she had (because I caught her in the bathroom windowsill, looking at the *@&%@# moon again), but didn’t think she’d come downstairs.  My son confirmed that yes, she had come downstairs. I asked him how he knew, and he said, “Mom, I know everything.” Well, maybe you do – because there was a room temperature – yet unopened – yogurt container on the kitchen table at her place setting. As if to say, “Yeah, mom, I was here. But I got bored and came back upstairs to see you at 3 a.m.”
But we’ve tried just about everything to get her to stay in bed – letting her stay up late in hopes of wearing her out, not giving her a nap, putting up the baby gate – she evaded each of them like a pro. At one point I checked on her and found her sprawled on the floor, blanket in hand and thumb in mouth, sound asleep. I figured she’d give up, sooner or later.  The only remedies we have yet to try are the infamous crib tent and duct tape.  Letting her stay up proved amusing, if nothing else: at one point she was in her older brother’s room, poking his sleeping body and saying “Wake up, wake up!”  
Perhaps her absconding is a precursor of things to come in her teenage years? In which case, we’d better be prepared.