Upping the Ante

Henry has figured out that if he cuddles me at bedtime, I won't put him in bed right away.  He knows that I'm a sucker for a snuggle, so if I start moving toward the crib, he escalates the sweetness.  Our bedtime routine goes something like this:

Henry has a bottle and we read a couple of books.
Me: "Okay, sweetie, time for night-night."
Henry: "No night-night. Cuddle."
He snuggles into me but continues talking enthusiastically about trucks.
Me, five minutes later: "Okay, sweetie, time for night-night."
Henry: "No night-night. Cuddle.  [Makes song request.]"
He leans his head back and I sing him some songs.
Me, five minutes later: "Okay, sweetie, time for night-night."
Henry: "No night-night.  Cuddle."
He turns sideways to lay his head on my shoulder and talks more sedately about trucks.
Me, five minutes later: "Okay, sweetie, time for night-night."
Henry: "No night-night.  Cuddle."
He turns fully onto his belly and flings his arms around my shoulders so we're in a bear hug.
As long as he stays quietly in this position, it's exceedingly hard for me to put him down.  Usually I just get to the point where it's getting late and he should be sleeping, or I really need to start working again.  It's probably not great to get Henry used to such a drawn-out bedtime, but this way I get cuddles, he gets quiet time to ease toward sleep, and Karl gets to have a martini in peace.  Everybody's happy.


Last night I finally put him in bed and he looked up at me, gave me a giant smile, and clear as a bell said, "I love yooooooo."  

Every night for his whole crib-sleeping life, I've tucked him into bed and said, "Good night, little man.  I love you."  Notwithstanding his recent habit of repeating (and repeating, and repeating, and repeating) everything we say, he's never said anything sounding remotely like that.  It was also his first grammatically-complete subject-verb-object sentence.

Scored another 20 minutes of cuddle time with that one.  I'm toast.