A week ago today my dad put Jack's toddler bed together. It was a bitter sweet moment for this mama but I also felt really excited for him to be moving forward. I know I wouldn't like sleeping in a cage.
Night one: The child crawled into that bed like he has slept in it his whole life and just got off a 3 day bender. He was out before I could even get ready for bed and I didn't even get to do his night routine with him. I guess sweet child was ready to be a big boy.
I was feeling a little cocky. I'll admit it. I was even kicking myself a little for not doing this earlier.
Night two: We did our night routine. I turned out the light and he. went. to. sleep. Y'all, I was strutting my stuff thinking that moving to a toddler bed was the greatest thing ever. MY child is going to sleep in his OWN bed and he is going to sleep at BEDTIME. ha.ha.ha. Someone should have slapped me, but I didn't know. I just didn't know.
Night three: Jack feel asleep in my bed while watching tv and so I just moved him to his bed. I didn't like that he went to sleep in my bed but all was good still. No harm done, right?
I almost wrote the post on Friday about how well Jack was doing in his toddler bed. I was ready to brag. I was. I'm glad I didn't.
Night four: I like to call night four hell night. If there had been any liquor in the house I would have fixed a drink (or two). 1. He would NOT stay in his bed. Thought it was hilarious when he jumped off his bed. I was playing it cool. "Jack. Sweetie, no jumping off our bed. It's night time". Yeah that wasn't working. 2. He would NOT stop talking/laughing/rambling. He really was like that drunk friend who won't go to sleep.
I was putting on my best Super Nanny face and just calmly putting him back to bed. Y'all, I'm not lying, I got up to put him back into his bed at least 20 times. I gave up. I did. My body was worn. My knees starting cracking from getting up and down so much. He slept with me and even that was a fight.
It isn't any better. We always start out with J
ack in his bed but then he puts up a fight. We battle. I loose. I think I could possibly win the battle if it wasn't so late and I wasn't so tired. I tried letting him get out of his bed for a little while and see if he gets back in himself. He doesn't. Like I waited 15 minutes last night and he was playing with trains. I even turned all the lights out thinking he would be too scared to get out of bed. He wasn't. It was freaking dark too. I stubbed my toe on his dang bed. I think he has natural night vision. It's part of his torture device.