You should be going to bed. You’re sick and should be exhausted. You should be easy to put to bed tonight.
Instead, we dance “The Dance”. The “It’s time to sleep” put you in your crib and close the door dance. The lay down for five minutes and then sit up and play dance. The “Mommy. Mommy. Mom-myyyyyy!” dance. And then the “Mommy. Moooooom-my. Papi!” dance. The “Okay we can rock for a few more minutes dance, but just because you’re sick and can’t breathe” dance. We rock. You poke me in the eye and giggle. You push your fingers into my mouth saying, “Teeth! Teeth!” You want your blanket. Don’t don’t want your blanket. You ask for song after song. We run through Baa Baa Black Sheep, Twinkle Twinkle, the ABCs, Rock-a-Bye Baby, and Jesus Loves Me. Then you bust out Baby Shark with full motions. At this point I figure, Hey- why not? And we get out the energy. The Wheels on the Bus, Itsy Bitsy Spider, and anything else with motions. Your hands find my hair because it’s your current favorite discovery. It moves! You can weave your fingers through it! It tickles your face! What fun! I can tell you’re fighting sleep with long blinks and lots of eye rubbing. We switch to humming, and I coerce you back to your crib. Blanket on. Lights off. Close the door. Cross my fingers that's the last dance of the night.
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AuthorHeidi. Archives
March 2022
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