This evening, it was my turn to execute Hootie's bedtime routine. On My Day, Hootie is generally very easy to get to sleep, whereas when it's The Husband's turn, she will start in very early in the evening to subtly (or not so subtly) sneak in subliminal messaging suggesting it's actually MY night, not his. Or that possibly I'll be doing the stories, and he can do the songs, because after all, HE'S a good singer (Which is an absolute falsehood. He can't carry a tune in a bucket, and though I'm no undiscovered diva, at least I can sing the notes on key).
Tonight was a bit of a different story. Hootie had her bath, we brushed her teeth and she gave Daddy a hug and kiss goodnight. We both crawled up onto her bed with two stories in hand, and I started to read. She began to ask 412 questions or find other ways to dilly dally on each page, trying to make the storytelling process linger as long as humanly possible.
"Let me count the eggs, Mommy. One...two...three, no, let me start over. One...two...three...four, wait wait! I have to start over. One..."
"Hootie, I'm going to read the rest of the story now."
We finished stories, and sang a song. Then we said our prayers. "Now I lay me down to sleep. I pray the Lord my soul to keep. Angels watch me through the night, and wake me with the morning light." (I see no reason at age 3 for her to say the part about if she dies and what should God be doing then? That's nuts.) God bless.... (insert EVERYONE WE KNOW, EVERY STUFFED ANIMAL IN HER ROOM, the light, the kitchen, the dog, her Moosie's dog, her Auntie Wah's dog, and who were those people down the street? Oh right, Champ and Hays. Them too). Amen. Time for kisses, hugs, and bed.
Hoo: "But I don't WANT to sleep in my bed. I can't SLEEP in here."
Mommy: "Hootie, this is your room, of course you can sleep in here. You have slept in here all week. Put your head down and try. Goodnight, sweetheart."
I shut the door about 3/4 of the way shut and walk out toward the living room.
4 seconds pass.
Hoo: "MOMMY! YOU DIDN'T BRUSH MY HAIR! MY HAIR IS WET!" (it was in a ponytail and didn't need it, but okay).
Mommy: "Okay, let's brush your hair." I go in with the brush, get it all brushed out, re-kiss and hug her, say good night. I shut the door about 3/4 of the way shut and again try to walk toward the living room.
4 more seconds pass.
Hoo: "MOMMY! I'M HAVING A HARD TIME GETTING TO SLEEP." (Repeat 17 times, verbatim, top volume).
After listening to all this plaintive crying from the other room for a while, I go in again.
Mommy: "Hootie, it's time for bed."
Hoo: "But Mommy, I'm having a hard time getting to sleep. There are LOUD NOISES in my ears."
Mommy: "What kind of loud noises? A bell? A whistle?"
Mommy: "Tubas? There are tubas in your ears?"
Hoo: "Yes, Mommy. I can't sleep with tuba noises in my ears."
(Of course, there are no noises going on at all in the house or outside worth even mentioning).
Mommy: [Holding her ears closed a minute] "There, is that better?"
Hoo: "Nope. I can't sleep with these noises. BUT, if I went to sleep on YOUR bed, the tubas would go away and I could get some sleep."
But of course. Why didn't *I* think of that?!