This is sadly not the case. Little Carson man has become a master manipulator. And we fall into his expertly woven trap every. single. time.
He’s becoming especially efficient at stalling at nap time and bedtime. Before he will even consider going to bed, it has become absolutely necessary that all of his choo-choo trains, monster trucks, firetrucks, stuffed animals, or any other toy within his range of vision be put to sleep as well. This routine consists of lying each toy on it’s side and Carson saying, “bye bye choo-choo train engine, bye bye blues clues fire engine, bye bye every last toy that he possesses!”
Somehow, we’ve lost all control of storytime before bedtime. We used to allow only 3 stories, but now storytime has somehow morphed into reading 8-9 books. Even though I put the rogue books back on his bookshelf everyday, at some point during the day, Carson returns the books to his nightstand, ready to be read that night. Rather than let his primal screams wake up Ella, we give in and read the disallowed books.
Not ready to leave wherever we are? No problem, Carson will just suddenly find the most minute grain of nothing on the floor and decide he must study it, demanding to show us this nothing. We feign interest just to hurry his ass along.
Not interested in eating what I cooked for dinner? Say “all done, all done, all done” until we can’t take it anymore, give up, and let you down to play.
Not feeling like having your diaper changed? Simply ignore Mommy as she requests your presence on the floor. Continue to ignore until Mommy starts losing her patience and then, and only then, begin to laugh and run away. Mommy thinks to herself, “I shouldn’t chase him, he wants me to chase him.” And a chase ensues.
You want a package of fruit snacks right there in the middle of the grocery store, but we haven’t paid yet? Just scream your head off until Mommy relents and lets you eat one (okay, two) packages in order to finish the shopping trip in relative peace.
Come on, you’re super impressed with our parenting skillz? Am I right!? (Damn, I swore I’d never be that parent.)