Since he was 1, Elliot has gone to bed with at least one book in his hands. Propped up on his elbows, he'd flip through the book - sometimes reading, sometimes singing - and then slip it through the slats in his crib and go to sleep.
Lately, he's demanding the lamp be left on. And by 'demanding' I mean screaming and wailing like someone just hacked his leg off with a butter knife. The first night, Fred obliged and we turned it off when we went to bed. Second night, same. Third night Elliot was stuck with me and I gave him my No Way, Jose - you only get to sucker your dad look and he was okay with that.
Fast forward a week.
Last night, he was wailing again because Fred wouldn't leave the lamp on. Fred's solution? He remembered this tiny little key chain we got from our realtor that is shaped like a house and emits a tiny red light when you squeeze it. This not only satisfied him but made him happy to have a little light of his very own. Finally, he slept.
I got up to him yelling around 4:30 a.m. and went in to see what the problem was. He looked at me and very seriously said "Hep me. Not fine da yight." I looked over and he had his blankets all pushed in one corner and his book open as though he were trying, desperately, to read it. Still in my sleepy-stupor I said "What? You want me to find that dumb little light? Are you kidding me?" (Kind of harsh, I know, but I never once said I was a morning person.) He responded with "Fine da yight mommy?" and I did.
He. Was. Sitting. On. It.
Someone pray for this child. It would be in his best interest to NOT wake me up at 4:30 asking me to find the dumb little flashlight.
Next time, I'll grab it from under your butt and peg it at your sweet little head. Now, MOMMY SAID TO GO TO BED.