“The Force is strong in this one.”
Two years old in a few weeks and he’s giving me more hassle than the other two before him combined.
He expertly climbed out of his crib a month ago. Happy as a pig in shit to do so. Ready for a big boy bed, it would seem. So a big boy bed he got. Trouble is now he won’t stay in it. Oh, eventually he’ll just tire at the gate and shuffle back to bed but when this happens at 1 am in the morning, it comes down to a battle of will.
“Maaaaama, I whan warhm miiiiilk.”
Me, softly, from my bedroom. “Go back to bed.”
Whining ensues. Tired whining.
Me: “Go back to bed.”
“No. Maaaaama. I hugry.”
A few more minutes of whining.
“Daaaaady. I whan warhm miiiilk.”
Sternly, “Go back to bed. Night night.”
This went on for over an hour. Eventually, his will broke and he found his way back to bed. Hmpfh. Hungry indeed. Just stay the fuck in bed, kid.