Tonight's post is bittersweet. My babies have both moved to a big boy bed. After spending most of the summer traveling and sleeping in every configuration imaginable (together, apart, big boy beds, toddler beds, pack n plays, blankets on the floor, airplanes, carseats, etc.), Drew has informed me that he "no want to sleep in crib". In a persistent, wailing tone of voice. On a nightly basis. For the past three weeks.
Cade, who has been sleeping on a makeshift pallet of blankets next to my bed since we returned from vacation three weeks ago, informed me that he would sleep in his room ONLY if he could sleep in a big boy bed, not the toddler bed he happily slept in for over a year prior to vacation. In the interest of shortening the bedtime routine and removing the permanently installed Cade Area Rug from the floor next to my bed, I caved. It was not without apprehension - I got tears in my eyes last night as we discussed the Big Move and found myself mourning the loss of my babies. For almost the past four years (counting the pregnancy obsession months), my whole life has been focused on baby stuff - the food, the toys, the babyproofing, the diapering, the gear, etc. I found myself feeling sad that with the loss of the cribs, all the "baby" I will have left is the two diapers and 15 bibs a day Drew goes through since he STILL drools enough to soak through a raincoat.
We dragged out the old full mattress that we have been storing in mattress bags in the garage for two years since we lost our guest room to the second baby. When we packed it up (seems like just yesterday!), I lobbied pretty hard to sell it but Aaron insisted on keeping it since it had only been slept on three times and nobody had ever had sex on it. I must admit, I was pretty happy not to have to go out and buy a new mattress set today.
I started to get kind of into it. I secretly rejoiced at the thought of getting my guest room back. We disassembled the toddler room in Cade's bed and moved it up to the attic, leaving Drew's crib (which converts to a toddler bed) up in the nursery as backup in case the whole big boy bed thing didn't work out. Exhultation turned to disappointment when I realized that we have enough toys to fill up ToysRUS headquarters. With the big boy bed taking up so much precious bedroom real estate, the "guest room" will morph once again from nursery to playroom and be consumed by the Pottery Barn Rocket ship playhouse, the rocking horse, the play kitchen, and the train table (all gifts from well-intentioned relatives who clearly no longer have small children and all their assorted crap at home).
While shifting beds and oversized toys between the two rooms, we were amused to overhear the following conversation between the boys:
Cade: When I was a baby I slept in the crib and I didn't like it either. I was trying to get out but I couldn't get out!
Cade: Don't worry - Daddy says tonight we will sleep in the big boy bed in my room - you can stay there too.
Cade: Now give me that train!
With the big boy room all set up and the toys neatly organized (at least until tomorrow) in the playroom closet, we read stories, brushed teeth, and settled the boys into bed. We outlined the rules of the big boy bed (no getting out of bed, no goofing off, and no touching the expensive Pottery Barn planet mobile hanging over the bed because Daddy is too lazy to move and re-hang it since the bed has moved). I was psyched and fully prepared for battle, as I was pretty sure the big boy bed was not going to work out and we would spend half the evening marching people back to bed and the other half listening to Drew wail as he was returned to his rightful place in the crib as the baby of the family.
Instead, Cade cried out once - to go to the bathroom. He went, climbed back in bed, and rolled over and went to sleep. Drew did the same.
It was too easy. Normally, I'd be rejoicing at what a masterful job we did sleep training our children! So why am I so sad that it looks like my days of sleep training may be behind me?