Big Man is a model two-year-old when it comes to going to sleep at night. Once I get him to his room and lay him down in his bed he goes right out and sleeps until morning.
The disagreeable part is getting him to his room when it means leaving behind his family, who could potentially still have fun without him, in the living room.
It’s my job to put him to bed, and the moment he realizes I mean to do it, he runs straight at Mommy. As much as she wants him to get his rest, Mommy relishes this moment. Big Man is often too busy hiding TV remotes and telephones to be much of a snuggler. But as soon as Daddy says it’s time for bed, he dives for Mommy’s lap like she’s the last chopper out of Saigon.
The words, “Time for bed,” signal Big Man that he should do something endearing, making desirable his continued presence in the land of the conscious. Everyone understands the game.
The other day, Big Man and Buster were playing LEGOs. We have a big, basket/bag hybrid container full of sundry LEGO pieces from the many sets we’ve built and smashed as a family. In years to come, when the boys inquire about their college funds, I will point to that basket; it’s all tied up in precious LEGOs.
The dreaded LEGO basket/bag. It doesn’t look like a lot, but underneath the three big pieces are 999,999,997 tiny pieces.
There are like a billion LEGO pieces in that basket. When a substantial portion of them gets dumped out it becomes a daunting clean-up project. Having the entire basket dumped out makes me want to put a For Sale sign on the house and let the next people deal with it.
On this particular day, Big Man and Buster had a fraction of the contents on the floor at clean-up time. Buster, being the biggest brother at hand, was in charge. He began to do his duty. Big Man, however, donned the “I’m too young to be expected to pick up after myself” attitude.
It turns out Big Man does know how to pick up, especially when it’s time for bed.
For the record, Big Man is not too young. He is often astute at picking up. Buster knows this about his little brother, and was rightfully irked by the idea of picking up by himself.
Buster appealed to me to intercede, but it can be challenging to compel a two-year-old to pick up LEGOs when he has no mind for it. I tried many forms of soft coercion, all to no effect.
He even knows where things belong, but only when it’s time for bed.
That’s when my genius four-year-old dealt me an ace. Buster whispered to me: “Tell Baby he has to go to bed if he doesn’t help.” (Big Man is still Baby to him.)
I turned to Big Man. “You don’t want to pick up LEGOs?”
He shook his head.
“Well then, I guess it’s time for bed.”
Big Man dropped whatever useful device he was trying to pry the batteries out of and darted to the LEGOs. In five minutes the floor was clear.
Everyone understands the game, and some have figured out how to play it.
Snoozing on the Sofa 
wait til Big Man gets an iGotDistracted device. He’ll go to the bedroom easily but will not “go right off to sleep” as he does now.
Thanks to the older boys, I’m already all over this issue. Doesn’t mean I know how to handle it, but I’m all over it nonetheless.
This reminds me of days when mom would ask us older kids to pretend to take an afternoon nap to fool my little sister into doing so. Often we all fell asleep and she got a few hours of ME TIME. Genius!
Does your mom babysit?
Not in a long time, but man, she was sharp back in the day!
I used to be smart back in the day, too. Don’t know what happened to me.
Oh my goodness, that is a lot of lego. I wouldn’t want to be the one clearing away either. Plus, lego pieces hurt when you step on them!
LEGOs are like a bed of nails. If you spread enough of them out on the floor, it doesn’t hurt to step on them nearly as much as when there’s just one.
Just be careful Big Man doesn’t figure out how to pick up LEGOs at a glacial pace. He could become a master of the delaying tactic.
His oldest brother already wears this crown. It would take lots of practice to learn how to go slower than the Champ.
That’s my threat of choice when my daughter decides (every night) that what I’ve cooked for dinner is poison. Smart Buster.
Maybe it’s time to put away the skull & cross bones salt and pepper shakers.
TOOOOO Funny!!!! Hehehehehehe Whatever works and leave it to a 4-year old to know the answer. Oh man!!!!
That’s what I’m doing from now on.
I would nominate Buster as a republican candidate in your coming election. He obviously has a lot more going on in that head of his than the current incumbent…
(AhDad might need to tread carefully in the murky waters of politics.)
I may just write his name in on the ballot. He’s the most mature candidate I’ve seen.
Parenting manipulation at its finest! I need to take notes – getting kids to either clean up or go to bed is a brilliant ultimatum!
One day we’ll have the technology to get them to clean up and then go to bed.