Rock A My Baby

Bedtime is fun. Little Man runs around the upstairs barking and panting like a puppy ignoring my pleas and my threats to get back in his room and get ready for bed. He's had a fever at night the past two nights so I had to take his temp. He snagged the thermometer from me saying he would do it. Little Mr. Independent now wants to take his own temperature. Did I mention I am the cruelest mom in the world? No under the arm or under the tongue in this house yet. Yes, feel for my poor child. The horrors he must bear. Apparently one of his coping measures it to try to do it himself. Apparently that is slightly less humiliating. Alas no luck. Let the humiliation ensue.

The humiliation was short-lived and he recovered instantaneously as he saw the little red light appear on the thermometer.

"I have fever?"

Yes baby. You have a fever.

"I like fever mommy".

I'm still shaking my head over that one.

We move on to reading Frosty (singing actually) and The Night Before Christmas (it helps reinforce the Santa's Good List bribe I've been working the past two weeks). Right before he goes to bed we have to move onto our new evening routine. I cradle him in my arms and sing Rock A Bye Baby (Rock A My Baby according to Little Man). As I hit the last line I "drop" him in bed.

It is John's night to stay with him. Our time spent sitting in his room has drastically shorten as we are (slowly) preparing (ourselves) to end this routine. He is laying on his pillow, one leg extended and one leg bent. He turns to his father and says "Daddy I pee".

You pee or you have to pee?

"I pee daddy".

You pee where exactly?

"In my pull up daddy. I pee right now" he states pointing to his pull up.

That's a step in potty training right? Please tell me it is a step. Ah, forget it, I'm making it a step.