Time For Bed

Let me break down this pallet for you.

• Layer 1: Thick quilt (Mommy's bedspread in college)
• Layer 2: Fleece blanket (Daddy's bedspread in college)
• Layer 3: Scrunched up quilt, face-planted kitty puppet, and two old pillows

Let me explain why these items are on the floor in my son's room.

May 2nd, 2012, 3:48 PM

I enter the toddler's room in defeat. "Fiiiiine," I say as I open his door, "you win. I get it. You're not going to take a nap today or let your poor mother take one, either." And then I look up and see . . .

. . . my child hanging over his crib about to flip onto the hardwood floor.

And I think, Daaaangit, time for a big boy bed.

[Side note: I think it's ridiculous to put your kid in a big boy bed because of his/her age. Sorry, I just do. I personally wanted to keep my son in that prison cell crib for as long as humanly possible.]

May 2nd, 2012, 6:05 PM

The hubbs comes home.

"Babe, guess who's ready for a big boy bed?"

"No way. Did he fall out of his crib!?"

"Just about."

Husband trudges out to the garage to get his tools and take apart the front of the toddler's crib.

May 2nd, 2012, 7:15 PM

Read bedtime story. Say prayers. Start to sing a song and before I can hit the third word, the inevitable, "Night-night, Mommy" lets me know that I suck at singing and my child would rather toss and turn than listen to me sing one single song.

I lay him down, turn to exit the room, and thud. He's already fallen on the floor. But he's completely encased in his blankie, so all is right with the world. I tell my son, "You cannot leave the bed. It's a no no." He obeys and doesn't leave. After a few minutes, he falls asleep.

May 3rd, 2012, 1:45 AM

I'm asleep. The hubbs is just coming to bed, when we hear it over the monitor:

THUD. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

I grab my glasses, and go flying down the hallway right behind my husband who gets to him first. He picks him up and holds him.

"Give him to me, "I say, because duh everyone knows that mommas make everything better.

The hubbs hands the little chicken nugget to me. And just as he does. . .

"Oh my gosh! He's got blood on his face!!!"

"What!?" I screamed. And just as I pull him away from my chest, I notice blood in his hair and all over the side of his face.

[Go into serious mom mode.]

I hold him back and scan. Relief. A busted lip. A badly busted lip. His teeth nearly went all the way through. There is blood everywhere.

May 3rd, 2012, 1:56 AM

"Come on, sugar bear, you wanna sleep with Momma?"

He can barely nod he's so tired.

As we make our way back to the bedroom, I say what my husband is just about to ask--"Put the crib back together." Once again, he trudges out to the garage and reassembles the crib.

May 3rd, 2012, 2:29 AM

Just put angel back to bed in his crib.

In our bedroom:

Husband: "Did we just--"

Wife: "Go from a busted lip to a potentially broken neck? Yes."

Husband: "Well, you better get him as soon as he wakes up in the morning."

Wife (who has an extremely important meeting at work today): "Yep."

---------------

And here we are. The problem isn't my child getting out of bed. If I tell him something sternly enough and threaten time-out, he 100% of the time obeys. The problem is that my child is hell-bent on breaking something. Here's to hoping the pallet prevents anymore bloodshed.

Geeeesh.