Here's an update on the toddler bed transition. Not because I think anyone is dyyyyying to know, but because it's probably one of those things I'll someday look back on and be all "oh, yeah, the toddler bed transition was no big deal! He did great! I have the most compliant, easygoing kids EVAH!" Because that's the way momnesia works, no? And no, it wasn't so great. Mister A usually goes to bed at 7:00pm, sharp. Last night? Do you want to KNOW what time he went to bed last night, and by "what time he went to bed" I'm referring to the excruciatingly long awaited moment he finally laid down, stayed down, and SLEPT? 10:45pm. And that probably only happened because J hauled a ladder up to A's room at 10:30pm and unscrewed the light bulb from the ceiling. Because before that happened, there was a whole lot of getting up, flipping the light on, then standing at the gate screaming "LIIIIIIIIGHT!!!!!!!! MAMA, DADDY, LIIIIIIGHT ONNNN!!!" And a few hours before that started, there was the "poopies" I mentioned to yall last night, which DID in fact end up being poopies, which obviously needed attending to. Which unfortunately meant going against the advice given to me by Anne, whose advice was "don't go in there unless he's on fire." After the poopies, he upended his name puzzle stool and chucked each letter against the closet doors. A, thunk. N, thunk. D, thunk. E, thunk .... you get it. He's got a longass name, yall. There were books everywhere. Pants off. Pants back on, inside out and backwards. Picture frames (minus the glass, of course) tossed over the gate. Anything that could move, moved, including our boy, for whom the newfound freedom proved a bit too .... freeing. And of course he didn't sleep in until 11:00am to make up those lost three hours and forty five minutes of sleep. Oh, no, no, no. 6:50am. Earlier than usual. So as you can deduce if you're a parent of a toddler, life around here by the middle of this morning was no picnic. You know it's bad when grabbing baby girl and fleeing to Wally World is some sort of reprieve. While there, we picked up a bed rail, because while J and I killed time last night waiting for him to sleep so we could sleep, we scoured the internet for toddler bed transition tips, and nearly every article recommended the rail. The Lisa recommended a chain and padlock. That's probably happening, if tonight turns into another three hour and forty five minute festival of insanity.
I will say, once he did go to sleep, he stayed asleep. There were no wakings or mid-of-night tumbles. The wake up was fine, too, even if it was too early. He didn't seem scared or confused, just delightfully proud. (And naked from the waist down, but of course.) And I will also say that nap time, in comparison, has been no biggie. J put him down and disappeared into a cloud of dust down the driveway (his turn!) and I only had to go in there once (code brown .... is he doing that on PURPOSE?) So I'm going to hope and pray last night was the big show, and it's smooth sailing from here. And he stops crapping himself every time we put him to bed. That would be awesome, too.
Oh, Buggy. You're making this interesting, that's for sure.
At least homegirl and I had a good time at Wally. She wore her sunglasses and waved pageant style at everyone in our path, and mama got mahself some Mike-aritas. For tonight. Hopefully celebratory Mike-aritas for when the boy crawls into bed and goes right to sleep and 7:00 on the dot. But if worst comes to worst, at least I have booze to take the edge off.
Rock on, V.