May 19, 2004 — better than sweeps -
So tonight was the season finale of The West Wing, one of mama's all-time favorite shows. There must be something about Wednesday...last Wednesday Everett finally fell asleep around 11 p.m. Tonight was even worse.
I'd put him to bed, with his bottle and his book, he would quietly lie there for 10 minutes or so, then get up and trot out to play with me some more. I kept asking him to go to bed, he would say "NO!" emphatically with a nod of the head for good measure.
As I try desperately to watch West Wing, and do some much-delayed work, Everett turns into Mr. Affectionate and absolutely adorable, sending me into fits of laughter. This is an actual quote: "Effwett a-wee head!" and he slaps his forehead with his hand and giggles, hugs me really tight, and does it again, and again, and again. He starts kissing me with his forceful, mouth-open, against-the-temples kisses ("no teeth, Everett!" I remind him). He is pulling out all of the stops.
Every time I get up and put him back to bed, he stays for a few minutes, lulling me into thinking he is sleeping, only to get up again for more play time. He kicks his ball around, reads a bunch of books to himself, brings me some books to read (his moose impression is so funny that we do it over, and over, and over again). He doesn't even seem sleepy, or cranky, until after 11. I finally get him to sleep at midnight; it is only when he answers "bett" when I ask if he wants to go to bed now that I know he's ready. I watched only about half of West Wing and got precious little work done. But I am so entertained and in love with this funny little guy that I don't even mind staying up past 2 to finish.
My little precocious night owl, he always seems to know when he's ready to sleep, and no hook or crook will get him to bed any earlier. A few days ago, it was 7:45 p.m. Tonight, midnight. Would a better routine help? I doubt it.
