Baby Bunting, now two years old (and therefore no longer BB but TB ) is a young man of considerably forceful opinions
One way this manifests itself is that we have to follow A System in order for him to go to bed for a rest in the afternoon.
First, he draws his curtains, which occasions much giggling.
Then, he goes into his cot. At this point it is vital that you put his dudu on (yes I know, it took me a few seconds … duvet to you and me …)
Then, you have to sing the night-night song not only to him but also to the various toys he’s taken to bed. (I’m singing night-night to a toy dog, a broken car and a lego thing )
Then I’ve missed something. Up bobs a raspberry-blonde head and a pair of reproachful blue eyes. ‘KITH!!!!!’
So he gets a kiss. All being well, he then lies down like a lamb and goes off without a murmur.
All not being well, there is a Huge Scene and Floods of Tears and Demands to Go Down’tair (TB is one of the family drama queens )
So. Yesterday I tidied up some toys, preparatory to our family leaving to go home, and put them in a big box with the lid on. I then went into the kitchen to get lunch ready.
Along came TB. Oh-ho!! A box … with a lid on … and toys inside … There is OF COURSE only one thing to do. Take off lid and start getting toys out …
‘No,’ I say, saucepan in hand. ‘Toys are in bed. Night night toys.’
TB’s back is resolutely turned to me. He starts fishing around in the box.
‘Toys are tired,’ I repeat. ‘Night night toys.’
Sudden inspiration. ‘Put the duvet on the toys so they can go to sleep’ (TB is really into imaginative play).
He picks up the lid, and puts it down again. Then he lays his head against the box and gives the toys a kith. Then he says ‘dudu on’ and puts the lid back, and starts singing the night-night song.
The lid stays on. Yesss. Result!