Monkey doesn't like to go to bed.
If we let her, she would continue to run (Yeah, um, sorry downstairs neighbors. Is that why you are moving to California? Oh, really? Ha, yeah, ok I actually meant that as a joke, well then, safe travels and, um, sorry...) around the apartment for hours past her bedtime.
She has a whole veritable cornucopia of stalling and delaying tactics, which include being cute, playing us off of each other, asking for milk, pretzels, water (with ice! WITH ice!), another book, the light on, elmo, etc. etc. etc. You get the drift.
But her latest thing? It kills me. Once we decline to engage in a debate about the 8 gazillion things she asks for to delay going to bed and we close the door to her room? She plunks down on her crib mattress, grabs her sippy cup (with ice), and drags it across the crib slats.
Kind of like a prisoner with her tin cup.
4 comments:
Fletch: (in cell, singing) Swing low, sweet chariot...coming for to carry me home. (speaking now to chief of police) You can't keep me here chief.
Chief: (brandishing a gun) Maybe I'm not going to keep you here. Maybe I'm going to blow your brains out.
Fletch: I'm no lawyer, but I believe that's a violation of my rights.
Ok, a character from the Simpsons is quoting Fletch on my blog? Suhweet.
Now if you could only work a Seinfeld reference in there, too.....
At least she's not climbing out . . . yet.
OK, dragging a cup across her crib bars? That is laugh out loud funny!! We are SO LUCKY... "E" gets two books, a song, a hug, we lay her down and... WE'RE DONE! 7:30 bedtime each and every night, IT'S WONDERFUL!!!!!!
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