Hi....I'm Evan. I'm hijacking my mom's blog today.
You see, my mom is pretty tired today. It's not that she stayed up too late last night or had one of her bouts of insomnia. Oh no, it's just that she spent an hour and half trying to get me to go to sleep last night.
While my brother and sister went to bed at the usual time with no arguments, I decided to see just how many times I could get her to come into my room. I was trying to break my personal record of six times.
First, I yelled her name. She poked her head in my room and told me to go to sleep.
Then, I yelled, "Poo poo, Mommy! Poo poo!" That always gets her attention. She came and changed my diaper.
Then, I decided to see just how far I could reach outside the rails of my crib. Well, what do you know...I can reach the light switch if I stand in the very corner of my crib and hike one leg up on the side. I kinda liked the disco look I had going on until she came in my room and moved one end of my crib toward the middle of the room. Of course, she doesn't seem to have a problem with my brother''s neon blue night light. Talk about a double standard.
It took me a while to come up with another distraction. But I discovered that while one end of my crib was a good two feet away from the wall, the other side wasn't. In fact, it was the perfect distance for my being able to lie on my back and kick the wall. Fun times. At least until she came in and hissed at me to go to sleep. I was really getting to her at this point.
I quieted down a bit and I could almost hear her sigh of relief. And that's when I put my final plan into action. I started yelling and throwing all my animals and blankets out of my crib. She came in, and seeing that all my animals were on the floor, told me that I'd just have to sleep without my "friends." She shut the door.
I yelled some more and pulled both the sheet and mattress pad off my bed. I couldn't quite hoist them over the crib railing, so I bunched them up in a corner of the bed. I yelled some more. She came in and told me I'd have to sleep on a plasticky mattress with no sheet. She looked like she meant it, too.
But I wore her down. It's amazing how thirty straight minutes of crying and whimpering can grate on the nerves of a parent. I cried so much, I almost had myself asleep, but then she came in, set me on the floor, re-made my bed and tucked both me and my Pooh bear in with my favorite blue blanket. She kissed me on the forehead and whispered, "You win this time," and closed my door. And I finally fell asleep.
So I managed to get her to come in my room a record seven times last night. I'll be going for eight tonight, but somehow I don't think I'll manage it because I heard her mutter the words "baby benadryl" under her breath last night. Maybe I'll get lucky and turn out to be one of those kids who becomes hyperactive on benadryl. I can always hope, right?
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