We have been back from America for well over a month. When we initially returned I made a number of allowances for The Duchess during her bedtime routine. And by routine I mean “bedtime free-for-all.” (Because that’s the same thing, right?)
It meant that I wanted to be patient with her preciously tiny little body-clock, fully expecting we’d soon be back on track.
But we are nearing the end of February and bedtime has instead become an hour long (+) process filled with impromptu Thomas stories and the ever-present request to join her in her bed and hold her hand. And it gets REALLY cramped in there.
Tonight was the night.
I clenched my jaw and steadied my hands as I prepared myself for war. I sometimes watch Supernanny when there is nothing else on TV. I knew what I was in for. Hours of screaming? We’d just have to endure it. Cries for Mommy? I was doing this for her own good. Claims that she’d pooped herself? My nose would be the judge of that. I know her tricks.
I read her final book of the night, reached over to switch off her lamp and placed her in her cot.
She was asleep in 20 minutes.
(Ahem) It might have been 15 if I hadn’t run in there, convinced that she was going to use her crazy climbing skills to Parkour her toddler behind over the side of her cot.
20 minutes!!! We have been doing this for 7 weeks. SEVEN. I am such a sucker.