So here we were, the third night of the toddler bed. The stage is set, everyone large and small knew the plan. Normal bedtime routine, get into bed, stay in bed, and mom/dad would "be back in five minutes [actually 30 seconds] to check on you." The door wasn't even latched before Bud popped up and - turned on both lamps, got out a book or ten to read, came out of his room to try any number of half baked ideas to lure us in, crawled quietly to the kitchen doorway and peered in as if we wouldn't be able to see him, invited Addy (cat) to go in his room, asked for water, claimed he needed to go potty, etcetera, etcetera. After two hours of this circus of insanity, Emmett finally fell asleep. Wayne and I congratulated each other. We went to bed.
We've all heard these stories of trickery and toddler shenanigans that leave parents mind-boggled, frayed, and LAUGHIIIING (and/or crying) because it's just downright good comedy. The looks on his face and the things he came up with. I applaud him. But then...
I woke up to the silhouette of a tiny person saying, "Daddy, will you help me open this, please?" First off - yeah, manners! Secondly, WTF? Who are you, what time is is, and what the hell are you trying to open? And, wait, why are you calling me daddy? I got out of bed and ushered the bud out of our room quickly, because, SURPRISE, the tiniest one is still sleeping in a pack 'n play in there (UGH - that's a convo for another post!). I took the thing he was trying to open and could tell by the feel of it that it was a full tupperware container that came from the fridge (I had to go by feel because, sleep-blind). I picked him up and we went to the kitchen, where I saw that it was 3:02am. The light from the fridge revealed the container was full of sweet potatoes. The fridge light also revealed that the bare buns I thought I felt when I picked the bud up were, in fact, bare. He was only wearing a shirt. No pants. No pull-up. I took him to the bathroom and found a discarded pair of pajama pants and lightly used pull-up crumpled on the floor. He sat on the potty and told me about going to the potty by himself earlier. Mm-hmmmmmm...
We went into his bedroom to get him re-dressed and there I found the small lamp on, a pile of books out, and a bag of mini carrots (yes, a CARROT bag) that used to have a handful of carrots in it. It just had one carrot left when I found it. "I was reading books and had some carrots!" He was very lively and matter-of-fact about his escapades. I started to really wake up by this point, but put the carrot bag on the table with the lamp as a reminder for my future self that, yes, this really did happen. Naturally, Emmett wanted to read a book. Nah, brah. He went into bed, I turned off the light and left the room. He popped up and we went through the routine of shenanigans several times. I stuck to The Plan and eventually he stayed in bed. GOOD EFFING NIGHT!
Of course I barely slept thinking about all the dangerous and messy things he could get into if he were to get up again. I kept poking Wayne (who did a good job of never fully waking up but was still engaging enough) to check the monitor.
The next morning (i.e. 3.5 hours later) I was out the door to the gym and DIDN'T LOOK BACK. Good luck, suckas! When I got home I noticed an empty bread loaf bag on the ottoman with some crumbs sprinkled around. I figured things were just a little wild with Wayne and the boys while I was at the gym. I didn't ask questions. Later Wayne and I took a beat to laugh laugh laugh laugh laugh at what had gone on during the night and as we recounted the absurdity, Wayne mentioned that he found the bread bag in the living room. He said there was one last piece of bread in there the day before but it was empty when he found it. The Carrot Caper strikes again.
So...I guess it wasn't just a ploy when the bud said he wanted a snack at 8:45 the night before?
