Steve McCarson in...The Great Bed Escape

Today Carson had a day of utter refusal to be put to bed. He usually still naps an hour or two in the afternoons--a habit which I hold most dear. Even if it's just enough time for me to eat a snack and take a quick power nap, it's still essential to me.

Today I tried to put Carson down at his "normal" time (aka "after lunchtime-ish"). He went on to his bed without a fight. But 10 minutes later he came out proclaiming, "I have to go poop!" This has become a semi-regular bedtime stall tactic. But whether true or not, that's not a possibility worth ignoring.

After a productive visit to the bathroom, he went back to bed. But then he heard me talking to my Mom on Skype. "I want to talk to Granny!" (He's been on Granny strike for like a month now and will never talk to her when I want him to. But today was apparently somehow different.) I told him no and that he needed to sleep.

About ten minutes later, he came out of his room again, carrying two of his toy cars, to tell me that he had an owie on his arm and that he wanted me to kiss it. Fine. Kissed.

Back to bed.

Then, after just about another 10 minutes, he came out once more with a worried look on his face, "Mom! What happened to my bed??!" I had heard him rustling around in there, so I went in to check. He had slid his mattress off the bed onto the floor. That's when I decided it wasn't worth wasting my time putting him back to bed every 10 minutes anymore and gave up on the nap.

Fine.

So usually, no nap means an early bedtime, which in some cases is an acceptable compromise--as long as I have my act together and can actually be ready to put him down an hour early. Today all was in order, and when, at 6:00, he started having melt-downs about things like spilling his rice on the dinner table, I thought, "Aha! He's ready! I'm ready! Let's do this thing!"

He got in his jammies, said his prayers, and was eager for his bedtime story. He didn't even put up a fight against brushing his teeth. But after the story (and 3 or 4 rounds of singing the ABC's) he wanted to play with his stuffed animals--something he never does. I convinced him to play on his bed, said he could sleep with them, kissed him goodnite and closed the door. No problem, right?

Five minutes later, "Mom! I have to go pee-pee!" Once again, this is not the kind of thing you can ignore, no matter how suspect the timing may be. I took him to the bathroom, but the offering was meager.

On his way back to the bedroom, he noticed the two Ligntning McQueen cars he borrowed from our neighbors. "I want Light-ming the Queen!" I gave him the cars and took him to his bed.

But this time he wouldn't let me close his bedroom door. "I want to see Light-ming's eyes!" Ooookay.....fine.

A short time goes by, "Moooommmmyyyyy!!!" (There's never a normal sounding call of my name first. It's always loud and demanding from the get-go.) "Yes, Carson?"
"I dont want the other Light-ming. You take it." So I take the extra car out of the room with me--but I still am not allowed to close the door.

A few moments later, "Hi Mom!" comes the chipper voice from around the corner, follwed closely by his little head peeking out. As though what I wanted more than anything else in the world was to see him at that moment. "Carson! Get back in bed!"

Back to bed.

A few more moments later, as I'm cooking at the stove, I notice something fly thru the air in my peripheral vision. Then the other sock follows. Then Carson follows. "Mom, you better put these on me!" These are the socks he had already been wearing, but apparently decided needed to be put on again. More sock throwing as I try to adjust the temperature on the stove so as not to burn my dinner while I deal with this new situation.

Now he wants to help me and watch me make my dinner. "No, Carson. Not tonite. You can help me tomorrow. Go back to bed!"

Back in bed, still won't let me close the door.

Finally, my dinner is finished, it's about 7:30, and I haven't heard from him in at least 5 minutes. I go to peek in his room to see what he's up to. As soon as I come around the corner, "Mommy, snuggle!" For completely different reasons, this is another request that I just can't ignore. I go in, close the door, and rest my head beside him on his little bed for a few minutes. Finally, after a big hug (which had to be with two arms, not just one), I told him I had to go and it was time to sleep.

It's 10:00 now, and I haven't heard a peep. I think the coast is clear.

I dont know what got into him today. We had a walk this morning, played in the park for a long time, played inside a bunch, went out again to play with Seamus in the park in the late afternoon. It seemed like he had plenty of energy outlets. Maybe it's just the age?

Or maybe it was the Honey Nut Cheerios for breakfast.