Big Boy Room Move

Last night we jumped off the precipice into full blown toddler parenting mode-- and moved Carson to his Big Boy Room, and hence, his big boy bed.   We opted for the twin mattress on the floor as a step up (or down, physically) from his crib.   I had my reservations about the whole thing, after all, our little guy naps like a champ, sleeps 12-13 hours a night regularly, and goes down without a peep in less than 5 minutes.  So why mess with a good thing?  Baby #2 is coming in 5 weeks, and though it may be flawed to think that Carson would associate losing his room with baby's arrival if we did it after the birth, we thought it best to give it a shot now.   And so our little guy graduates from his comfy and beautiful little crib into an entirely new room and bed.  And the real stress in all this, to me, he's no longer a "baby." Babies sleep in cribs. My little baby is growing up.  Good grief, I am slammed with visions of adolescent angst already.  

The big boy room was officially complete on Thursday when the rug arrived.  We did everything we could to make the room the most enthralling (yet calming) place for Carson to go.  For the past month we've hyped it up by talking about big-boy rooms in books, Elmo shows, etc.  We even got another leaf canopy for his new bed, just like the old one over his crib.  My sister Coleen helped me put up the giant tree mural sticker when she visited a few weeks ago.  He loves, loves, loves his new room.  We feared, maybe too much.

The tree mural, and leaf canopy.  Cozy!

His bookcase and toy bins on the other side of the room (empty right now!)
On night #2 we moved the sheepskin rug over next to his bed so he has
cushion when he falls out. 

The awesome ABC mural my sister expertly applied to the nook.
Changing pad sits on top of the radiator, cozy warm! 

His very cute green dinosaur alphabet rug. 

After several discussions about the timing, we decided to seize the opportunity this weekend, when we're home both nights, have no house guests, and are pretty unscheduled in terms of daytime activities (in case of massive naps we'd need to recover).  I had plans to go out with friends on Friday night, which at first I considered a show-stopper condition, but Matt thought it was perfect.  I'd imagined the worst of situations:  Carson kicking and screaming on the other side of his door, begging for me...and knew Matt was right. There was no way I could be home and go through that.  Matt remained optimistic and calm, and I knew he was the right guy for the job.

So I left to meet friends at 6:30, and just as luck had it, Carson was whiny and overly tired, less than optimal conditions for a new bedtime experience.  I exited to a chorus of "mommy!" and "noooo!"-- the anthem of any toddler.  I kissed Matt goodbye and wished him luck.  In my mind, he'd need it!

About a half hour later, Matt calls my cell.  My gut sank as I went to answer it, wondering how fast I could get from the restaurant to the Children's Hospital ER.  After all, that's where my mind always goes.  Just absolutely crazy.  But over the hum of other people's dinner, I heard Matt's calm and somewhat "told you so" voice and was immediately relieved.   He told me how Carson had protested with one small "Mommy!" reaching his little arms out for Daddy to take him to his crib, but then surrendered to the powers of blankie, and popped his fingers back in his mouth as usual.  Matt had shut the light off, said goodnight, and closed the door behind him, to silence.   Wow.  Our kid is a champ.

We went in to check on him at 10:30 when we went to bed, and to my horror, found him in a little heap on the floor near the head of the bed.  The reptilian part of my brain went immediately into invention/survival mode and fabricated a carpet-fiber-inhalation injury, but Matt put my mind at ease by laughing at my idea.  This is what I love about him, I voice my fear, and he diffuses it.  Such a great partner...I can't imagine doing this thing with anyone else (especially someone as crazy as I am).

We went to bed feeling like we'd crossed the big boy bed transition fiasco off our list, cautiously optimistic that we'd beat this monster.

The truth?  Not exactly.   11:30 PM - Thump.  Whimper. Full blown cry.  I run into the room and gather him in my arms from the floor.  Matt follows me, reminding me of our pre-discussed plan:  put him back down and say "this is your big boy bed, time to sleep" and exit the room.  We try it.  Blood curdling screams.  Uncontrollable sobbing with several "mommy" screams in between.  I imagined him in his room, confused and scared, wondering why I wouldn't come.  I think I lasted about 2 full minutes, praying constantly, before I gave in.  I gathered him up in my arms again and sat down in the reading chair.  I pulled out a book (in the pitch dark) and tried to make up the words for it I could remember.  This was about as effective as throwing a thimble of water on a house fire. I sang the comfort song I always used when he was a little baby.  At some point he stopped sobbing and turned the book right-side up (which I could not see, so clearly his night vision is already better than mine).  We sat there for about 5 minutes, psuedo-reading, and then we put him back down in the bed.  Presto.  He was out.

Then 1:00 AM- Thump. Whimper. Cry.  Reading drill, back to bed, faster this time. Then another Thump again at 5:30 AM, after which I could not sleep.  At 6:20AM he woke up, completely fine. Not traumatized.  He lie there talking about his tree mural, telling me about his stuffed doggie-- clearly up for the day.

Saturday night was even better.  He woke at 11:30 and 2:00 AM, and that's it.  I am so keenly aware that some parents out there deal with multiple wake-ups even for a kid in a crib, so believe me, I am sooo very grateful that this is a temporary thing.   God definitely knew when He designed my child that I could not handle it any other way.  Hopefully He doesn't have a different plan for baby #2.

So that's it...we're officially underway in the toddler room transition.  I'm calling it a win in the parenthood category of life.  Small victories. Yay.  

This weekend we also put up Carson's first Christmas tree (last year we were travelling).  Check back for pictures and a post soon!  Thanks for reading!