When I was growing up, my mother always had a garden, and it always contained at least two things: green beans and tomatoes.
Those two things seemed to need constant picking. Every day, a few new ones would be ripe. If you waited until the following day to pick them, they'd be over-ripe. So...we picked. Every day. (Or, rather, she picked.)
One night after dinner I told her I was bored. Never mind the fact that I had three siblings to play with, a room full of toys and books and there was a mountain of dinner dishes that could probably have used my help.
I, the 8 year old, was bored.
My mother shot me a look and said, "Then go pick beans!" She then turned back to whatever she was doing and left me to myself.
I went outside with a bucket and picked beans.
Half an hour later, she came out. "LoLo, we've been looking everywhere for you. What are you doing?!"
"I'm picking beans!" I replied, confused.
It was only when she sighed and rolled her eyes that I realized...she hadn't been serious.
Which brings us to last week.
BBJ is given quite a bit of leeway in her bedtime routine. A few weeks ago, she asked that we leave the lights on in her room while she's falling asleep. We tried it - it doesn't actually add to the time she stays awake, and has cut the screaming that can sometime occur down to nothing. She sits in bed, reading books and singing to herself, until she quietly lays down, tucks herself in, and falls asleep. I go in afterwards to turn off the lights and move the mountain of books onto the floor.
Then, last week she gave me a mischievous look after we had read our goodnight stories and said, "Mommy, I want to sleep on the floor!"
Hmm. Not worth an argument.
"Fine! Get in bed if you're cold. Goodnight."
I came back two hours later to tuck her in. And found this.
She slept there the next two nights, which meant that I was in there at 10:30, hauling her 34 pounds back into her bed.
On the third day, she announced before her nap that she was going to sleep on the floor. I saw the glint in her eye. Again, not worth the argument.
"Fine. Get the blanket from your bed if you get cold."
As I turned to leave, I saw that her eyes had lit up and she was grinning from ear to ear.
She slept on the floor, curled up in a blanket.
Luckily, the next day she opened the first of her birthday presents - a big box of books. As everyone knows, books are much more fun when you're snuggled up in bed. She hasn't asked to sleep on the floor in a few days.
*Phew!* She's heavy to pick up at night!
