Sunday, June 29, 2014

For Sale: One 3-yr-old boy, potty-trained, will wake you up at the crack of dawn.

Little man has been quite the character this week. Yesterday, Casey overheard me asking, "What have you done?" At 5:45 am, mind you.
This must be what a mogwai looks like before it turns to a gremlin. 

Our son has always been an early riser. It's never been an issue though, as at school they taught him really well not to get up without permission from nap time and that carried over to home. Even when we moved him out of his crib into a toddler bed, he wouldn't get up without permission. Now his bedroom is upstairs, and he generally will play in his bed or room until we get up and then he'll call down and ask to come downstairs.

Until this week. It was started with the thunderstorms Tuesday night. He didn't want to go to bed and instead wanted to sleep in our bed. Verboten. No babies in the bed. We already have one child sleeping in our bedroom (in a bassinet). At 1 or 2 am, he's calling loudly for Daddy. Casey ended up going up there and sleeping in the guest bedroom for reassurance. So, when he comes down AGAIN in the wee hours, I escort him back upstairs and point him down the hall. At 7 am, I peak in and he is head-to-head, sleeping next to Daddy. Aw, adorable. Not really. Ugh. 

The next night, at midnight, he's calling for Mommy. He knows he's not supposed to come downstairs. So, he says, "I need to go pee-pee." Man, he is too smart. That one phrase, no matter what, will cause any adult to drop everything and cater to him. And he knows it. Crap. So I take him to the potty, but he doesn't go. I escort him back upstairs. An hour later, he's back. "I need to go pee-pee." I escort him straight upstairs to pee. Again, nothing. At 5 am. At least he pees then. Now, the baby woke up at 11 and 4 to by this time (or well before this time) I'm fed up.

So, we get a clock that has a red and green light for his bedroom give him strict instructions not to come down until it turns green. The next morning, he comes down at 5. That light ain't green. "I need to go pee-pee." I escort him back, he pees, and tell him to wait for the light. But I watch him through the video monitor. He stacks up some mats and gets the clock, plays with it for a while, and put it back. After a while, I come out, and he's on the floor by our bedroom door, peaking through the crack. Ugh!!! We go back up there moments before the light is set it go, plug it back in, so he can see it works. Then, we come downstairs.

And what do I see? Paper towels, strung across the kitchen like Christmas lights. What have you done? Well, it appears that after stacking mats to get at his clock, playing with it and returning it, he ventured downstairs, spilled a glass of water on the table, pushed a chair over to the counter to get a paper towel but doesn't rip it off...just pulls and pulls and pulls, like his own little streamer across the kitchen.

As a mother, I appreciate his problem-solving skills and realize that his heart is in the right place, but HIS BUTT SHOULD STILL BE IN BED!!!

This morning, I knew it was coming. Even with a pillow over my head, I could hear him from his spot laying prone on the floor facing bedroom door, loudly singing "Twinkle, Twinkle." Again, I escort him upstairs and explain he needs to wait for the light. He can play, "read" but must stay upstairs. He actually fell back asleep and then finally came down after the light went green at 6:31. AM. On a Sunday.

If he does it again, I'm putting him on Ebay.
Whether he likes it or not. Doesn't he look just like Tyrion Lannister, aka Peter Dinklage, when he's mad?

 "Chopping" greens, like Mommy.

Reading the funnies.  Aw, sweet.

Want him?

1 comment:

Cindy said...

I'll take him!