Lofton is the bedtime guru at our house. Always has been, always will be. There are many reasons for this, but the long and short of it is that he’s just better at putting Reese to bed than me. Yep, I said it. He’s better at something than me.
But even Mr. Sandman had to admit his ineptitude last night when Reese started yelling for him, just like he yelled for me at nap time, over and over again. I laughed. A lot. Why? Because when I called Lofton during Reese’s pretend nap yesterday and let him listen along as Reese yelled for me, he laughed at me. Yep. He acted, dare I say, like he could have done it better. Hardy har har, my husband!
Unfortunately, I think we both are seeing the error of our ways. It started with rocking Reese to sleep for naps over Christmas break and then moved into lying down with him in the big boy bed at night. Shoot. I’m sensing a pattern. Our dear toddler expects us to stay with him until he falls asleep. Stinker, just when I thought we were getting this bedtime routine down, we must start all over again…
Lucky for me, the sleep retraining responsibility falls on the hubs. I’m okay with that seeing as how I fight the morning battle of getting dressed, brushing teeth, and combing hair alone. And I fight {most nights} the “please eat something other than easy mac, spaghettio’s, or peanut butter” battle.
Yes. I think I will happily hand over the sleep baton to Lofton. For now, I’ll sit back and relish in the glory of getting Reese out of bed {and out the door} without tears this morning. Just don’t tell Lofton I’m still using juice boxes for bribery, okay?
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