Apparently, that sums up my youngest.
A couple weeks ago, John was determined to get him to go to bed on his own while I was out running. He put him to bed over and over, refusing to lay down with him, refusing to engage. When Chip didn’t come out the “last” time, John thought he had succeeded and went in the basement to work. But, when I walked in the door I immediately heard the pitter patter of little feet running from the bedroom and the wimpers of a little boy begging me to go to bed with him. By John’s reckoning, he had laid in bed, quietly, for 45 minutes waiting for me to get home.
As posted here previously, I decided a couple months ago that Chip was old enough (at 2.5) to night-wean. Something my other two were forced into well before the age of two. Both were mad, but got over it after a week or two. Not Chip. The boy still asks every night, multiple times. In fact, last night, a night in which I was exhausted, still feeling the effects of my race, he woke up at 12:30 and then proceeded to wake up every hour after that, asking to nurse. I did not give in until 4:50, which is just minutes before my alarm should have gone off and was the appropriate time in my sleepy head. But that, now that I think about it, probably was a mistake since I had been telling him “not until mommy’s alarm goes off, buddy” all night. So in his mind, he won. He got to nurse on his terms. Sigh.
Both of these issues, though, have got to be resolved. For the sanity of both of Chip’s parents. I think perhaps I have mentioned this in the past, and yet John and I are still struggling to gain the upper hand. Ergo, Chip = 2, Parents = 0.