I made lunch for Z and Q, calling up periodically that he needed to come eat his food. I told him that if I came upstairs, he was going to take his nap (he often naps through lunch, I wasn't punishing him!). Then I made and ate my lunch. Still no Q. By this time, his howls had decreased to the occasional protesting cry. By the time Z and I had finished our popsicles (I'm so glad it is popsicle season again!), all was silent from the upstairs hall.
I gave him some time to get good and asleep then went upstairs to move him to his crib. He was
I scooped him up and took him to his room, trying to soothe him on the way. He stopped crying when I picked him up, I guess he thought I had relented and was going to carry him down the stairs, but when I headed for his bedroom my little guy gave a performance worthy of Linda Blair. We rocked and I soothed and he screamed and protested. Finally, there was nothing for it but that I put him in the crib and close the door.
It was Z's nap time, too, so I called her up for her books. We read them to the accompaniment of Q's indignant yowling. Finally, about the time that Z was tucked in an snoozing, Q gave up the battle and went to sleep. Whew.
Only to take it up again at bed time. Sigh.
On a brighter note, a word about social dynamics: When I was teaching, I noticed that every group had a certain structure, certain roles that had to be filled. For example, if your most disruptive student moves, some other kid, who may never have been disruptive before, will move up to fill the bad-kid-vacuum.
The same thing is happening at our house, but in reverse. Usually Q is my child who is obedient and easy going, but now that he has officially hit the terrible twos, Z has slipped into the 'easy-kid' role. She couldn't be more helpful or obedient. It's a little strange, like she's a Stepford daughter or something. But I'll take it!