Bedtime Blues . . .

So, rather than writing a synopsis for my most recent project (really overwhelming), I am blogging . . . and procrastinating. :)

Oh my word. Where to start. You know when you hear horror stories from your mom about that one particular thing you did over and over (generally something naughty), and that thing categorized you as a tough—(fill in the blank: eater, sleeper, etc.) Well, I was not an easy to-bed-we-go child. Seriously. I wrote the book on things-you-can-do-to-extend-the-bedtime-process.

Woh. See, I've always been a procrastinator!

Anyway, that gift I gave my parents has now been returned to me. Tenfold. My son, my sweet-natured, easy-to-bed, will-sleep-anywhere child has become a changeling. Some sinister creature has replaced him and now the bedtime routine has become AT LEAST an hour-and-a-half long process.

Right now, Caleb's bedroom is FINALLY quiet, and I am exhausted from trying to get him to sleep.

The scenario goes something like this:

Me: "Hey Caleb, time for bed in five minutes, Ok bud?": (like it's an option. *drips sarcasm*)
Caleb: (*totally continues whatever he's doing like he didn't hear*).
Me: (*Repeat self several times until response from red-headed boy is evoked*).
Caleb: "NOOOOooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" (*heart-wrenching wail*)
Me: "Yep. Five minutes."
Caleb: (*Back to playing and ignoring*).
Me: (*begin the mental countdown*).
Me: "Ok Bud, bedtime!" (*cheerful loving mother voice*)
Caleb: "NOOOOooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" (*another heart-wrenching wail*)
Me: "Yep."
Caleb: "Two mintues."
Me: "Nope. Bedtime!" (*cheerful loving mother voice, again*)
Caleb: "I need a snack for the road."
Me: "No Caleb, you had dinner and we already brushed teeth. It's bedtime."
Caleb: (Much wailing about denied snack).
Me: "Up the stairs, Caleb. It's bedtime."
Caleb: "I need a . . .(fill in the blank et. infinite).
Me: (*Not so loving mother voice*). "Caleb, up the stairs. Now." (Sometimes he complies at this point, but more often than not he insists on picking up his toys, which never happens otherwise, or some other equally helpful task. Often, I end up carrying screaming, fighting boy up the stairs to his room. Once we have arrived in the room the process begins all over again).
Caleb: "I need a drink. . . . I need my animals (stuffed), . . . I need my cars . . . I need . . . need . . . " (et. infinite)
Me: "Bed. Now."
Caleb: "NOOOOooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" (* heart-wrenching wail, throws himself from bed to floor*)
Me: "In bed now or Mommy will have to spank you."
Caleb: "Hard?"
Me: "Hard."
Caleb: (*considers options*) "Spank me."
Me: "Ok." (*spanking ensues* back to the bedroom with semi-remorseful child).
Caleb: "Sing to me Mommy?" (This is another procrastination technique, but I can't resist this one, which he knows. I comply.)
Me: "I love you Caleb. Goodnight."
Caleb: "I need a drink."
Me: (*sigh*) "No Bud, you already had a drink." (*cue wailing*)
Caleb: "I need to go Potty."
Me: (*Deep breath*) "Do you really have to go potty?" (This is last-resort material on Caleb's part).
Caleb: "Yes."
Me: "Go."
Caleb: (*bright smile*) "I go quick!" (*goes potty and dawdles severely on the way back until I am forced to carry him*)
Me: "Now Caleb. Bedtime. I love you."
Caleb: "NOOOOooooooooooooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" (*another heart-wrenching wail*)
Me: "Do you need another spank?"
Caleb (*considers options*) "No." (sometimes he says 'yes' and we have to do that routine again.)
Me: "Bedtime."
Caleb: (*FINALLY climbs under covers*) "I have a question . . ."
Me: "No questions. Goodnight." (*makes way to door way*)
Caleb: "Mommy! Mommy!" (*very urgent*)
Me: (*sigh*) "Yes Caleb?"
Caleb: "You my best girl in the whole world."
Me: (*melts in a big puddle on the floor*) "I love you Buddy."
Caleb: "Love you Mommy."
Me: "Goodnight." (*exits door and steps out closing it behind me.*)
Caleb: "MOMMMMYYYYYYYYY! I NEED A DRINKKKKKKK!!!!!!!!!!!"
Me: (*sigh*)

At least I know where he gets his procrastination tendencies.