“Mommy, can you come upstairs and talk about my day?”
This is Eliott’s new favorite thing to do. John does the bed and bath routine every single night now, because by five o’clock, I really need to punch out of mommy duty for the day. But just before she’s settled in and the lights are out, she comes to the top of the stairs and asks this question. Every single night, as if I have a choice. We’ve been doing it for several months now, and though I’m wise to the fact that it is a five-year old plot to stay up a little bit later at night, at the same time, I will keep it going as long as I possibly can. Obviously. When she doesn’t want to go to bed, the girl divulges secrets like I’m the diary she doesn’t know how to write in yet.
The other night, after two days of sickness (thus, no pre-bed snuggle time with mommy) I finally had to cut her off and tell her it was time for me to go downstairs.
The UnderToad 