The Easter long weekend is over already. We had a pretty full weekend, and it wasn't completely relaxing, but it was mostly pretty fun. We managed to go out on the boat, visit a new Church, have family time, go to the beach (the weather has been amazing), have an Easter egg hunt and watch some movies. Our biggest focus this weekend, the thing that has taken up a lot of our time, energy, exhausted our emotional state, stretched and tested our patience, and basically turned us into walking Zombies (maybe a slight exaggeration), was transitioning the little boy (at almost 20months old) from his cot, into the big bed. I picked this weekend because I figured Joel and I could tackle it together, in the hopes of tag-teaming and reducing stress. I wanted to do it with plenty of time to transition him before the new baby arrived, and because he can easily climb out of his cot, I knew this change was long overdue.
Night 1 in the big boy bed was amazing. It could not of been easier. I put it down to missing his day nap because we were out and about, I assumed he would nod off in the car in our drive home, but I was mistaken. When we put him into the big bed, he was already exhausted and fell asleep so easily, we didn't hear a peep until 7am the next morning when he wandered out of his room and clambered into bed with us. It was glorious. I found myself wondering why I was so tentative about this transition, it had all gone so well. Perfect in fact.
Day nap 1 was equally as glorious! I was elated and so impressed at my amazing mothering skills and what a perfect child I had managed to raise. This is great, he loves his new bed. I had heard nightmare stories about kids and moving to a bigger bed, I couldn't believe how easy it all seemed to be going. I must be doing all the right things, why hadn't I done it sooner?
That was until I encountered Day 2. When the little boy came to the realisation that he didn't actually have anything stopping him from getting out of bed. In fact, he could get up and play with his toys or open the door and walk out if he wanted to. And he wanted to, again and again and again. He thought it was hilarious every time I took him back to bed. Me, well I did not think it was anywhere near as funny. Eventually, after two very long hours, of dealing with the extreme over tiredness, tantrums, the hair pulling, biting and punching, he gave up the fight to be awake, and drifted off to a very,very short nap. Night time, was much less eventful and went relatively well mostly due to the lack of day sleep.
Day 3 was equally as bad, perhaps a little worse. My patience was tested to its limits, my emotional state was not faring well. But, I wasn't about to let him win. Joel was out, enjoying a lovely afternoon surfing, much to my dismay. I was in the midst of a strategic battle of the wills, and I wasn't going to be the first one to break. It may have only taken me 2 and a half hours, including a slight intermission for a banana and a glass of water, but he slept. I may have resulted to using every strategy I could possibly think of: lying next to him, sitting at the end of his bed, singing, patting, waiting behind the door, finally he fell asleep as I was lying next to him reading him a story. Very cute, I must admit, for a conniving little fellow.
Day 4, well I hand-balled day 4. Joel who was blissfully unaware the day before, was to about to go under trial by fire. It took him just over an hour! Yay, we were cheering for the small victories. An hour, only an hour, amazing. The night time sleep battle also was shorter than the evening before, I got him to sleep by 8.30 rather than 9. Like I said, it is the small victories.
But, as I write this, I have been visited by a certain toddler 3 times (make that 4, nope now 5). This is a new thing, middle of the night waking.
Its 10.30pm. He was fast asleep. My patience is waning. I need some down time. I could just put him back in the cot, but well, I'm not one to give up that easily, we are as stubborn and determined as each other, and I know it will be so much harder with a newborn in the mix.
Welcome to a brand new trial in parenting.
Every time you have one thing under control, you get another challenge flung at you.
The next big challenge I guess will be dealing with two instead of one.
(I didn't get this post finished until the morning, lets just say the very eventful evening continued! Someone didn't want us to leave the room, but was up playing around in his bed at midnight. This morning he woke chirpy and early as usual, the adults on the other hand are completely wrecked)
How did your little ones transition to the big bed, or are you yet to face this fantastical challenge?