Yesterday my man friend had a little sitch so I offered to grab his 2 almost 3 year old son Ryan from daycare, and watch him until he got back from work… with my 7 week old.
God bless everyone with multiples especially my friend that has 3 under 4.
Before I even got his son, my man friend asked if I wanted help and I was like nah dude, I got this, (Brushes shoulder off) we’ll be fine!
We can fast forward through most of the evening, everything was going great – Ryan was helping with Riley, we played with his blocks and made a chicken nugget store (boy after my own heart) had dinner, watched some t-Swift music videos, Storks and then came the dreaded bedtime.. DUN DUN DUN. when I got played like fool.
I have to preface this by saying up until this point I’ve only seen Rys bedtime routine while he’s downstairs with us, once his dad would take him up I never knew what went on, and my man friend would always be up there for a few minutes, so Ryan had a little bit of an advantage here.
So all is going well – we change into jammies, do a countdown of when he has to go upstairs and then we march up the steps – Ry in front, and Riley in my arms (who ya know can’t cooperate and is still super fussy at night and going through formula hell)
Ryan’s room has a lamp, and a little toddler bed pushed against the wall so he doesn’t fall out – he hops in and immediately says,
“lay with me in bed – my Daddy does.”
I briefly consider this.
But then imagine his father trying to curl up in that little bed.
“Nope, can’t do that.”
Then he tries to tell me his dad lays on the floor, slightly more believable and I probably would have done it but I was holding Riley- who, he oh so sweetly assures me, can also lay on the floor.
His sincerity kills me, so I sit down by his bed after tucking him in.
His next request – a bedtime story – I look around – not a book in sight, so I start off with,
“once upon a Time there was a boy named Ryan..-”
He instantly cuts me off,
“No no no – I don’t like that one.” He waves his hand at me and scrunches his face – indicating his displeasure. “I want a lion story.”
Ah yes how foolish of me.
I start over. “Once upon a time there was a lion hunter named Alberto.” (Say that in your head like you work for the discovery channel – cause that’s how I started.)
Mind you I’m pulling this whole fucking story out of my ass and boy does it end up weird – lion hunter named Alberto who wants to prove to his wife Francesca (who sounds like Lois on family guy PEETTAaah), that he can catch a lion. Well apparently the lion can only be caught with chocolate chip cookies, which Francesca is great at baking – so Alberto convinces the lion not to eat him and brings him home for cookies – which also makes Francesca think Alberto caught the lion. I don’t know it kind of made sense. There were talking giraffes with British accents, a few mishaps that our guy ran into and I was super animated, jumping around, pretending to eat Ry’s arm with my hand like a lion and He was LOVING it.
This naturally boosted my confidence.
I was like ya look at me IM DOING THIS. (Moonwalks across floor and spins) So confident that this night is in the bag.
After his story Ryan asks for his back rubbed and I say sure, why not.
He also has insisted his lamp stay on and door open.. I figure the lamp goes off when he falls asleep and the light in the hallway acts as a night light – No prob kid. Whatever makes ya happy.
So I’m brushing his hair back, rubbing his back, and Riley’s in my one arm sucking away on her pacifier.
“What’s that noise” he looks up at me,
“It’s her pacifier Bud, time for bed.”
“Whys her doing that?”
“It makes her feel better,” I say.
“Oh.” Brief silence.
“Can her lay with me?” No.
I explain he’s in a toddler bed and she’s too small and then a host of questions and a whole lot of whys ensue.
I finally tell him again it’s time for bed, but now he has to pee. So we get up, pee, then naturally he has to brush his teeth. I mean hello I’m not getting in the way of good hygiene.
We hop back in bed for no more than two minutes before he looks at me straining and claims he has to poop. I figure this is a trick but I literally hate poop- as someone who’s worked at a crisis center I’ve actually seen poop flung at the walls/people and ya know what it’s just not my thing, so Ryan played his trump card.
I get him up real quick as he assures me he hasn’t pooped yet but it’s coming and he Legit WADDLES/runs to the bathroom HOLDING his butt!
Then he needs his little potty seat thing so he doesn’t fall in blah blah, it goes on for ten minutes and I’m pretty sure he is lying but he’s making noises in there and HE WADDLED!
Finally I say dude let’s go back to bed and he whines that no he really has to go.. a few minutes pass and he tells me he’s all done – that he pooped. So I stop feeding Riley, put her down, walk into the bathroom- and there’s literally not a single nugget in that toilet. BEDTIME.
Long story short I leave him up there, check on him every 10’min and he’s just playing in bed refusing to sleep, blanket forts, the whole nine. I try to shut the light off – he screams. 😑
Dad comes home, walks in the room, light off, door closed – “goodnight bud.”
that’s the bedtime routine.
Well played my friend, well played.
til next time ✌🏼