The Dictator's new favorite two words are "But Mommy..."
I swear, I might have to start putting the Dictator to bed at 4 p.m. because it now takes her so long to go to sleep. If I put her into bed at 7 p.m., she'll finally stop coming out of her room at about 9: 15 p.m. If I put her into bed at 8:15 p.m., she'll stop getting out of bed by 10:30 p.m.
I tell you, sleeping is my number one hobby, so I don't get why she doesn't want to go to sleep! I'm waiting for the day someone forces me to go to sleep.
"But mommy," she says, after I tuck her in, for the 8th or 9th time.
"I want you to sleep with me," she says.
"Ok, you fall asleep first and then I'll come sleep with you," I'll say.
"But mommy. I have to go poo," she'll say. (And, unfortunately, she's always telling the truth about that.)
Then we go poo. And get her back into bed.
"But mommy, I want another book," she'll say.
"Not tonight," I'll say. "I already read you five."
"But mommy. My toe hurts," she'll say.
"Ok, I'll kiss it better," I tell her, and I do.
"But Mommy, I'm not tired," she'll say.
"Yes, you are."
"But mommy, I want to you to sing me a song."
And I sing her a few songs, say goodnight for the millionth time, say to her, "Do not get out of bed," for the millionth time, tell her I love her for the millionth time and then...
Grrr. On and on the "But mommy" goes.
I can't be the bad cop. The fiance and I have talked about discipline, mostly if he tells her to do something, I'm to back him up, and if I tell The Dictator to do something, he backs me up.
But I...can...not...be...the...bad...cop. I just can't. I know it's probably (most definitely) bad. But I just can't yell at her. I make the Fiance do it.
"You have to go yell at her now," I'll tell him, after the Dictator has come out of bed a dozen times.
The thing I've recently learned too, is that the fiance can't really be the bad cop either. We're basically screwed, I figure.
"I'm going to go up and yell at her now," he'll say. "I'm going to be the bad cop."
But when he goes up, all I hear is laughter and singing. The fiance is the nicest bad cop ever. Yup, we're pretty much screwed.
Who is the bad cop in your relationships? I think it's different if you have more than one child, when you have to keep the ship tighter. But I do wonder how many mothers can be bad cops?
Part of the problem is I just even when she won't stay in bed, her excuses are too funny. "My toe hurts," kind of just makes me crack up. It's kind of hard to yell at her when I'm trying not to laugh.
On another note, check out urbanmoms.ca for a review of my upcoming book Wiped! Life with a pint-size Dictator. It's a good site too, for all you hip mothers to know about anyway, and features some really fun columns.