It started out as usual - baths, pajamas, bedtime story, prayers, hugs and kisses, music turned on, and lights out (we really have this routine down to a science). Lights turned off just about 8pm. Not 10 minutes later, I hear a small voice at the top of the stairs: "Mommy, I have to go potty." I told Jocelyn to go back to bed - 90% of the time this is just an excuse used to get out of bed. But then she said that would make her poop her panties, so I thought it was wisest to take her at her word. Good thing too ;) She did her business, and I sternly put her back in her bed. Shortly after, she was at the top of the stairs again. The THIRD time I walked her back to her bed, and almost tripped over a bunch of junk that had not been there when she went to bed originally. I asked her what it all was, and she explained that she had put all her animals to bed too. Sure enough, I looked to see several stuffed toys covered in her extra quilt. The fourth time (roughly 9:15pm) I had her come down to look me in the eyeballs. I had already threatened a spanking if she came down again, but not wanting to have to make good on that threat, I gave her ONE more chance to get back in bed and stay there. She hugged me and trotted back up to bed.
9:30pm comes along, and I decide to wash the last of the dishes before heading upstairs. (I feel it needs to be said that Ben is out on the town tonight, and therefore was not being unhelpful, just wasn't around to provide assistance.) As the water's running, I hear this loud whisper: "Mommy." I pretend to ignore it. For 15 minutes straight, there's "Mommy!" "Mommy?" "MOMMY?" And yet she never left the top of the stairs. I continued to ignore her, because like I said I didn't want to have to punish her. But I'm laughing as I wash the dishes: what is so important that she has to tell me? And what invisible barrier is preventing her from coming down the stairs to tell me whatever she has to tell me? Finally, I clean the last 3 dishes without hearing a sound. Hoping she has finally given up and gone to bed (or even just passed out at the top of the stairs) I turn the water off and start wiping down the countertops. No sooner was I finished than my daughter's face appears in the kitchen doorway. "Mommy, I want to watch TV down here with you." My daughter looks at me with the sweetest, innocent, loving face... and I just chuckle, because it's either that or scream at the top of my lungs in frustration. WHAT?!? After giving her the wimpiest swat to the rear end ever (which of course still made her cry) I sent her back to bed, saying that it was SO very late, and her body needed its rest. One last hug and kiss, and off she went. Whew, what a long ordeal!
And then she came out again.
She has been in her room now for almost 20 minutes (last sighting was 10pm), so I am cautiously hopeful the exhaustion has finally set in. It was an evening that could have been maddening (and I certainly had my moments), but overall was just comical. I don't even think she knew what she was doing or why after a while. I love my little night owl... but REALLY hope that this late night does not create a bear in the morning!
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