He SEEP-y!

On the last day of our second trip to Pawleys Island this past summer, the boys and I went to Eagles to buy some t-shirts for the boys of a friend of mine. While we were there, Jones picked out a fire truck, and though I don't usually let him pick out things to bring home from stores, on this trip,  for some reason, I did. Blame it on too much salty air.

Anyway, not long after we got back to Myrtle Avenue, it was nap time. Jones told me his firetruck was sleepy. Assuming there were no small parts he could swallow while sleeping, I told Jones the firetruck could take a nap with him.

The result was three full hours of playing in the Pack and Play. Jones never went to sleep, which made for a LO-OO-OONGGG drive home that afternoon.

After that experience, I made a rule that Jones couldn't sleep with things - during nap time, anyway. He seems to do fine at bedtime, but not during the day. This doesn't pose that big of a problem, because Jones has never been one to sleep with anything (Freddie, on the other hand, has a MENAGERIE of bunk buddies).

When we got back from the beach, the first time he tried the "whatever-object is sleepy routine," I told him it couldn't sleep in his room because of the firetruck-at-the-beach debacle but that it was more than welcome to sleep in MY bed, so Jones took it and tucked it in in my bed before going to bed in his own. 

This has now become the norm. The boys and I will be out somewhere and get back home just in time for naps, and, without fail, as we pull into the garage, Jones will say, "Dump truck / tractor / whatever-he's-holding SEEP-y," and I'll say, "Does he want to sleep in MY bed?" and he'll say, "Yes, Ma'am," and I'll say, "That'll be fine." 

Then we'll go upstairs, and I'll put Freddie to bed. Then Jones will say, "You go Jojo room," which I do, sitting in his rocker, while Jones tucks in whatever "SEEP-y" object he has in hand. He'll shut my door and put his toy under the covers and, as he's leaving my room to head to his, he'll shut my door behind him, saying, "Go sheep. Go sheep (which I always say to him, because my Mayme always said it to me)! I wah oo (I love you)!"

Most days, he forgets about the toy during his nap. Jeremy and I currently have a yellow race car, a Thomas engine, and, until today, a cowboy hat, on our dresser, remnants of this week's nap time antics that we find when we head to bed every nite.

Some days, though, when I go to get Jones up, the first thing he'll say to me is, "[Toy] awake!" Then, he'll "make his bed" before running into my room to get his toy.  

Today was one of those days. 

I was in the kitchen when he walked in like this - 

I didn't even know that most of those items were IN my room. When we went into the den, he dumped the contents of his arms - in addition to the shades and cowboy hat he's wearing, he held one of his John Deere gloves, a dump truck, a train, and his beloved "blue hat." He proceeded to sit down in the den and play with his presumably refreshed treasures.

Just another day in the life.

(UPDATE - 12/22/15 - today, I walked in and caught Jones in the act of putting Sheriff Woody to bed. He's singing "There's Just Something About that Name" and then he says, "Go sheep. Go sheep! We wuh oo.")