Tell me a story

by Katie on August 12, 2015

So, as I’ve mentioned, once or twenty times lately, we took away Leyton’s pacifier at the end of June. My apologies for continually bringing it up, but it’s still a pretty big deal around here. While she quit asking for it after the first week or so, we still haven’t returned to the normal, blissful sleep habits we were used to in this house.

Things got better for a little bit, then reverted back to awful, and we’re currently somewhere in between. She does go to sleep at all naptimes now (instead of staying in her room awake for them), and bedtime, while still much longer and more dramatic than the 37 seconds it used to take, is shorter than the three hours it was taking the first week.

Roughly two weeks ago, Brandon had the brilliant idea one evening he took over bedtime (because this became necessary for awhile to keep Mama from losing her mind, and she seemed to be more willing to let him go at night than with me) to offer to tell her a story to help her relax. And you what? It worked. Like a charm.

When he was done, we high-fived and talked about how awesome he was and what a good idea he had. Because that night, it meant everyone was asleep, in their own beds, with minimal drama.

Two weeks later, let’s just say we’re not high-fiving over it anymore.

More like, taking turns exchanging an, “Ugh! It’s your turn for the story tonight!”

And at least I can always throw in a, “Hey, you started this.”

One of the very first nights Brandon told her a story, he had to tell her, “Let me think about it for a minute first.” Because did I mention she also selects and demands the person we’re supposed to tell the story about? The most common requests are for Mama, Daddy, Ga-Gan, or “your MeMe, Mama.”

Anyway, she picked right up on the whole “think about it,” thing, and now, every night, after we lay her down in her bed, she tells us, “Tell me a story. But fink about it first!” And if we start too soon, she stops us and says, “No! You have to fink about it first!”

Sunday morning, Brandon turned the table on her. He told her, “Tell us a story, Leyton. But think about it first!”

And she said, “Um…let me fink about it…okay, I got it…no, let me fink about it…okay, I’m ready. One day, …there was a daddy. Right there. And now I’m done!”

But that same morning on the way to church, we talked about how even though it can be frustrating at the end of the day, it’s just a phase. Because everything is. And one day, we’ll be driving to church asking each other when the last time was that she asked either of us to tell her a story. And then we’ll be sad it’s all over. Parenting. It constantly pulls you in opposite directions.


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