Last night the Jam couldn’t sleep, which isn’t surprising as it was the Saturday before Bonfire Night. Initially he was a little scared but watching through the window with me and DH, he soon cheered up and started to demand “more pretty”. Luckily, SE London was happy to oblige…
Anticipating similar events this evening (and another late bedtime) I’ve just had the following conversation:
Me: Nap time Jamie.
The Jam: No nap.
Me: Do you want to stay up late to watch more fireworks tonight?
TJ: Me like fireworks.
Me: Five minutes now then, so you won’t be too tired.
TJ: Okay…in Grandad’s bed. No Jamie bed.
He then lay down with me on the spare bed and went straight to sleep. (After about 40 minutes he stirred and is currently asleep on DH in front of the Grand Prix.)
I think this is a good outcome. He won’t be grumpy this afternoon and he’ll be able to enjoy the fireworks with us. DH can watch the Grand Prix and I have a little time to write this, wash up etc. It’s a smart compromise…so why do I feel like I’ve been outmanoeuvred by a two year old?