I posted a couple weeks ago that Zoe moved to her big-girl bed. I also noted that when we switched Noah to his big-boy bed, he felt like there was some sort of invisible force field around it that kept him in it. For several months, he would not get out of bed on his own, and he would still yell for us when he woke up. I was afraid that Zoe would not sense the same force field.
My friend Susan joked that she didn’t think it would be fair to other parents if we had more than one force field child. So far, Zoe does seem to sense the force field. The trade-off is that Noah now realizes it was only in his imagination. So Susan was right, I guess we don’t get more than one force field child (at the same time anyway).
Noah is going to be our night owl. Christian and I are both night owls, so I gues this will be payback for what we put our parents through. Every night, it starts the same way. First comes the stalling. He has become the master of stalling. He admits it, too, which at least makes it endearing:
Me: “Noah, are you stalling?”
Noah: (with a big smile and a flutter of his eyelashes) “Yes.”
Then he has to get up several times before he will go to sleep. I don’t even bother asking him if he needs to potty before he goes to bed anymore, because I know he’s going to get up at least twice to “potty” anyway.
Last weekend, Christian and I had been watching TV downstairs. As I walked up the stairs at midnight, I heard the pitter-patter of little feet. Just as I got to the top of the stairs, I caught a glimpse of Noah scurrying into his room and shutting the door.
I went into his room with my stearn-mommy-face to give him a little “talking to,” but instead I burst out laughing as soon as I saw him. He was in his bed hugging his puppy, with his eyes shut so tightly he was squinting. He was also holding his breath. It was the worst impression of a sleeping child I could ever imagine. So, instead of getting in trouble, this night he made Mommy laugh and got another good-night kiss.