the fun adventure of toddler bed transitioning.

Consistency has been a joy in parenting Sam. He likes routine. We like routine. Everybody wins.

Everyone knows kids do better with schedules. This is not rocket science. If you would like rocket science, I can have Chuck blog for a while and we will see how much you like that. Actually, odds are you'd like him more than me - most people do - so let's not. His side of the courtroom for the divorce is already pretty packed.

NE WHOO. We do routine and consistency and schedule well around here. It's the take away from my former life as a teacher. Everyday has the same outline. There's flexibility within the outline, but the structure doesn't much change.

Sam has loved this aspect of being our kid. As you'll remember from the Rug Meltdown of 2014, he likes his life the way it is. He is resistant to change, he is his father's son, and he is now facing the greatest life change of his baby career: Little Sister.

Obviously, the Rug Meltdown was a pretty good indication that things might not go super smoothly with Sam unless we back it up, take our time, and destroy his formerly consistent world piece by piece as opposed to all at once - try and introduce knew routines gradually.

SHOCKINGLY (and I mean shockingly) since the Rug Meltdown, he's handled everything else pretty well. He helped me move the changing table to Baby Kate's room. He was fine when the rocking chair left. To be honest, he's been thrilled that his room now has copious amounts of books and toys all reachable to him. So far so good. Which was also a little disappointing because I like meltdown blogging. Way more fun than "my kid handled it" blogging. Bleh. Terrible.

But now - pre Kate's arrival - we hit number one on the transition/life destroying/oh em gee list: transitioning from the crib to the toddler bed.

Without Kate's blessed miracle, accidental existence, I'm sure Sam would have slept in a crib until at least age 10. He's never tried to climb in. He's never tried to climb out. Aside from my ever expanding waist line there is no indication that this kid is ready, wants to or needs to transition to a big boy bed. Blame your sister, Sam.

We came up with a lot of ideas for how we wanted to do this to help keep up the routine and consistency of sleeping for Sam. My preference was to bury our heads in the sand and hope it all either goes away or just handles itself. Sadly, that was not an available option.

But a cheap toddler bed from Amazon was. For a whole $58 investment, we got Sam the cutest piece of furniture I have every seen. EVER. Toddler beds redefine cute.

Would I rather keep him in the crib longer and just do a straight to twin bed transition when he was much older, say 25? Yes please. Do I have a choice to do that? Nope. We've been sent a Kate and a Kate we will have. So a toddler bed we will have too. There are worse things in life than your free baby messing up the plans you made for your Cadillac baby.

We let Sam help us take apart the crib. Fully anticipating a Shirley MacLaine "Terms of Endearment" type meltdown, we thought he should be part of the process and also that I should be photographing the whole thing. This could be Pumpkin Carving 2.0.

He was so excited about the side coming off.
RUDE SAM. You are ruining a blog post I had already written in my head. And it was REALLY funny. RUINING IT.

He helped us move it to Sister's room and helped Chuck reassemble it. I helped myself to more coffee and supervising. I'm in more of a management stage in life/the pregnancy. I'm a foreman, not a worker.

Then we brought in the toddler bed.

It was love at first sight. Like most blogging moms, I wanted him to hate it, reject it, and spit in the face of this transition process.

Instead, I got the "oh this is the bed Daddy and I made together. I love this open air thing."

I mean, point us for the slow transition and getting him used to the toddler bed (we'd assembled it a few days earlier) but really, this was just Sam making lemonade when I clearly ordered lemons. Sam: you couldn't handle the loss of pumpkin life, but the loss of your crib, fine fine.

At least we get joy of watching him on the monitor trying to sleep in this thing. Day one: 40 minutes to go down, played around in the freedom of his room then crashed. Night one: 10 minutes of crying at the door followed by 10 minutes of staring, judgingly, at the monitor. Pretty uneventful. He hasn't destroyed his room. He hasn't pulled out all the clothes. I'm sure this is coming, he just hasn't thought to do it yet.

Since the first day, it's been a monitor screen shot party because an 18 month old trying to transition to sleeping in a bed is the greatest show in town.

Sam's Bed Transition {in pictures}:

Nap time number 1: Ol' William Wallace here was a little overcome by the new freedom in his life and needed some time with his toys. He hadn't seen them in like 15 minutes so it was a huge reunion tour.

The first time he discovered that knocking at the door was not going to bring me upstairs. It's been 6 days and he's still convinced this will work eventually.

Boycott of the bed attempt. He, ultimately, realized sleeping on the floor for nap time was not going to be the answer.

So he climbed into bed and took his first Resty Roo in the new bed. Win except he only napped an hour... beggars can't be choosers.

First night was a little rougher, but did start with a rave at the activity table. That thing was probably amazing in the dark.
But then, he cried at the door for "MOOOOOMA!!!" for a while and that just breaks your heart. If I had one. I did not come running. Sorry not sorry.

Eventually he fell asleep IN the bed, but fell out a few hours later.

And stayed there for a while. He crawled back into bed eventually. Basically, every night before bed, Chuck goes in and repositions his little baby body to help with the falling out. It's not really helping but it makes us feel better about our parenting.
 More greatest hits from the past few days:

One day light picture so you can see how "trashed" he makes the room. At most, ONE of those blue tubs will be pulled out and played with. This kid has not learned how to party yet.
Overall, not too bad. He's waking up a few times at night - either from falling out or just because - and then going to the door to knock for our assistance. Sadly for Sam, we do not accept collect knocking calls after 7pm so seeeeeeee yaaaa. He knocks a few times then crawls back into bed. He'll figure out eventually that we actually do love him less between the hours of 7 pm and 6 am, and just forgo any sort of night time Morse knocking code.

Surprise, surprise he is a bit tired these days because the sleep definitely isn't really restful yet (more like restless) but he'll get there. We have 8 weeks for him to get it down before Kate comes and starts her own anti sleep party. I'd like to be batting at least .500 on children sleeping through the night come January. I think we'll be there.

Until then, the monitor is better than TV right now.

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