The Miracle Sticks

I have to honestly say that most of the time, I fumble around completely blind when it comes to this parenting stuff. I mean, anything I thought I had figured out with Cortlan really turns out to be not figured out at all when it comes to Everly, or even when it comes to the "new" Cortlan, for that matter.  I have realized that there is no reaching any comfort level when it comes to kids.  Just when I think we have settled into a groove and can ride it out in comfort for a little while, they throw me for another loop.  Or throw me out of the moving vehicle altogether.  The saying, "They keep me on my toes!" that I always hear coming out of my mouth and other parents' mouths may very well be the understatement of the century in my case.

That being said, and because I am generally so clueless, I feel that it might be ok if I took a moment here to express my pride in actually figuring something out and solving a parenting dilemma all on my own...in a somewhat crafty way, to boot!

The problem was this:  Each night, Everly wanted "one more book."  And I know that some of you have been there with this.  One more book meant one more book...after each book.  So, really, it meant an infinite amount of books.  Until I said no, and then the tears began.  Even when I said, "Ok, this one is the last book.  I will read it to you in bed," she still didn't get it.  It still wasn't enough.  So each night was met with tears.  To make matters worse, though she never asked for the paci again once the paci fairy came, that was right about the time that Everly started calling to us repeatedly after we put her to bed.  "Want nother big hug from Mommy!" she would say.  And then, "Want nother big hug from Daddy!"  And, "Want moe wader!"  Or, "Need covered up!"  Or, "My bumped mine head!!!!" Or, "Snuggie bear fell on groun!!" Or whatever excuse she could come up with to get us in her room.  Regularly, we told her that "this is the last trip in" and would then endure the crying that went on for what seemed like forever when we held true to our word.  It was painful for us all.  The bedtime routine became a drawn out nightmare of sorts.

Wanting the routine to be back to the simple, pleasant experience that it once was, I really spent some time thinking and brainstorming to try to figure out a solution.  And here is what I came up with:

Five decorated tongue depressors.  As simple as they are, Everly fell in love with them at first sight.  The three purple and pink ones show Everly how many books she gets to read.  The yellow and orange ones show her how many times John and I will go into her room once we close the door for the night.  If she doesn't use the yellow and orange ones, she gets to have those as extra books the next day. 

Now, some of you who are much more on the ball than I am may be saying, "Duh.  How could you not see this was the clear solution all along?"  But I just can't believe how well this has worked!  Apparently, there was actually something to my thought that she just needed something concrete and tangible to help her understand the concept of quantity.  (Must have stored that in the back of my mind after reading a magazine in the pediatrician's office once upon a time.)  Each night, she takes her sticks and trades them in one by one for books, lining each stick up in a precise row on the floor.  She promptly climbs into bed with not a single complaint when the last stick has been placed into position.  On a few nights, she has used her yellow and orange sticks, but within the rules, and without a fuss when the next night she doesn't get those sticks to trade for books.  More often than not, we read five books at bedtime now.

I am wondering what we are going to do when Everly's books get to be a little lengthier and reading five is no longer feasible, but I am hoping that she will be old enough to understand the need for a rule change when we get to that point.  For now, I am just so thrilled that we haven't had "one more" problem since the introduction of the incredible sticks and that I actually achieved a small parenting victory. Score one for Mommy!  Woo hoo!!