…to a child who knows the order of things.
We’re big on schedules at our house. The bedtime ritual is so set in stone that our kids know once things are set in motion, there’s no escaping it. You are on your way to
the cage of torture and endless night dreamland the moment the first step of bedtime begins and there ain’t nothing you can do about it.
What’re you gonna do big boy, cry for you mom? MWAHAHAHA!
Magoo has become so sensitive to it that when I pick him up in the evening and say, “Okay…” his bottom lip curls down and he starts the piteous wail that is his futile attempt to stay up late and watch me blog, a highly enjoyable activity around these parts. Really, people come from miles around to watch me type, mostly small children trying to avoid being put in the clink for 10-12 hours.
Alas, resistance is futile and the little dudes are snoring away upstairs while I attend to all things geeky and internetly.
And in recent Laylee lingo we get, “Mom, I love you, but I’m gonna put my shoes on,” and “I just don’t feel very special today.”
Me: Laylee, you are so special. Come here for a snuggle.
Laylee: Well, I don’t feel very special. I haven’t felt special for a couple of weeks now.
It would be heartbreaking if it weren’t so funny. I’m not quite sure what to do about that one, except squidge her until she feels somethin’, special or otherwise.