Tell Me How You Really Feel

If you remember, Reed was having some troubles with his new sleep routine in his big boy bed. (If you've forgotten, THIS will refresh your memory.) On the plus side, he no longer falls asleep on the floor by the gate that prevents him from leaving his room. On the down side, he has found a whole new way to abuse his freedom from the crib bars and drive his mother completely batty.

He, of course, finds it hilarious.

His new tactic, or rather his new game, is to allow me to tuck him in, only to perk right up after I leave, throwing his blankets over the gate into the hallway, and call for me to come back so I can tuck him in again. And again. And again. And again.

To his credit: he's a smart little booger. And it was funny.

The first 20 or so times.

Now? Not so funny.

Now I tuck him in. Then tuck him in again. Usually I end up tucking him in a third time before I'm able to escape downstairs, where I just listen to him call, and then cry, for me to come back up before he relinquishes, and falls into bed to sleep.

Yesterday afternoon, when I tucked him in for quiet time, he pulled the usual stunt. When I finally got stern with him, told him this would be it, that I wasn't coming back up to tuck him in again, I concluded with my usual sign-off: kisses all over his face, followed by "Night night. Love you."

To which Reed replies, very grumpily...

"No love you."

I would be hurt to the core...if it didn't make me laugh so much. ;)