Big Boy Bed

Sunday was a big day at our house. At least Lukin would probably say so. On Sunday, we put together the "big boy bed" for Lukin. You would have thought that Lukin had eaten 10 Pixy Stix for how jacked up he was running around. We decided that he was so excited about the bed and that was why he was so full of energy.

After much "teamwork" (Lukin's word) in the assembly process, the bed was completed. Lukin couldn't wait to climb into the big boy bed to go to sleep.

At bedtime, he climbed in and gave his hugs and kisses and was more than happy to have us leave so he could sleep in his big boy bed.

If you have children of your own, you know that this is not where the story ends.

Night #1: We probably had to redirect him at least five times before Sonny just went to lay on the futon next to his bed so he could go to sleep. I went about my nightly after-the-boys-go-to-bed routine, coming back to check on them at 9:45. Lukin was sound asleep...on the futon next to Daddy. So I picked him up and put him in his crib. My thinking was that if he didn't go to bed in his crib, he didn't get to wake up there.

At about 4 am, the crying started. He had woken up and realized that he was in his crib and not in the big boy bed. Daddy got up and laid with him on the futon until I got up for work and then they moved to our bed.

Night #2: I think Lukin was a little more bound and determined not to end up in the crib on this night. We told him when we tucked him in that he would get five chances, if he got out of bed five times, then he would end up in his crib. And like the night before, he got out of his bed repeatedly. So off he went to the crib. He cried. Hard. It was like he had watched a dog get run over or something. He was so sad. So, reluctantly, Sonny and I caved and told him that if he got out of bed one more time, he was going back in the crib, and the big boy bed was leaving. He stayed in bed the rest of the night.

Night #3: I am assuming that the memory of night #2 was still fresh in his mind and that was why this night went better. He got up once, rushing out of his room saying "pee. pee" and pointing to his diaper. Daddy took him up to pee and when he came back down to put him to bed, we didn't see the door open again the rest of the night. That is until this morning at 6:30 when he came bursting into the bathroom while I was getting ready, saying, "Wakey wakey."

I am hoping that nights #4 and beyond go as smoothly as night #3.