Go to Bed.

I'm having a hard time thinking of one word to explain my emotions right now. Tired, confused, frustrated (very frustrated) and amused all fit the bill. For a while now we've been trying to transition Aaron into a big boy bed. We did this for many reasons: he has a tent/cage over his crib because he learned how to climb out when he was 19 months old; my sweet grandma gave us a twin bed; and I don't want to have to imprison my child every time I put him down for the night. The problem is that he is a very social being and would rather stay up all night than go to bed--can't you see it in his eyes as he cheers for the BYU bball team? He's a party animal.

I'd rather he learn a little discipline and enjoy the beauty of a good night's rest (I'm not idealistic at all :). It's not going so well. Last night was particularly bad. He fell asleep on the way home from Spanish Fork and as I transitioned my sleeping child from his crib to his bed I remember thinking, "I'm so glad I don't have to play the 'stay in your bed' game tonight." That's all that our nights have been lately. He loves to test me--see how far out of his room he can get before I put him back into his bed, laughing the whole time I chase him back to his room. Or, when I try the "super nanny" angle and sit next to his bed in the rocking chair, he tries to get as close to the floor as possible. I tell him that if he gets down I'll put him in his crib (that is still up because most nights after an hour and a half without Aaron even yawning, I give up and put him in is crib). Maybe that's one of my problems-I'm sure there are many. But I can't think of what else to do. I'm at the end of my rope. Last night little Aaron sauntered into our room at 1:00am, so I escorted him back to his bed and lied next to him. After an hour of him finding every which way to use me as a pillow, I gave up and tossed him in his crib. Then he screamed "open it, open it, open it" for fifteen minutes until I caved and let him out of his cage, into his twin bed. I curled up on the floor so I wouldn't be a distraction from him falling asleep, but still able to reinforce my "stay in your bed" mantra. And, the last thing I remember thinking is that he was quiet, and my idea of sleeping uncomfortably on the floor had worked. I was wrong.

I woke up a couple hours later with an achy body from the hard floor. I stood up and stumbled out of his room toward mine and checked the clock: 4:30. "The things I do to try to get my child to sleep well," I thought. Then I heard movement in the living room. I peeked around the corner and saw Aaron with all of his cars out, playing happily. I nearly broke down in tears, "Has he been up for two hours, playing without his cochlears on?" I shook my finger at him angrily and he gave me a sheepish grin and said, "Doc Hudson," as he showed me one of his favorite cars. I put my fingers on his hears and said, "You need your cochlears on." To his credit, at some point in his late night hay-day he had successfully removed his cochlear batteries from their charger and tried unsuccessfully to put them in his implants. That did soften my heart a little. Once I got his ears on him I was calm enough not to yell, and I told him that it was NOT time to play, it was time to sleep. I asked him if he understood and he looked at me, turned his Lightning McQueen car over and said, "Car sleeping." Yes, Aaron, your car is sleeping. Let's put them all to bed and then go to bed. So, we turned all of the cars over and went to bed--with his cochlears on--so that I could tell him to stay in bed every time he tried to get by me. By the time Aaron got to sleep, Jonny was leaving for school.

Things I need to do today: install another, higher lock on my front door, read through my sleeping books again, and decide how to better manage this miniature crisis. Be harsh critics, tell me what to do differently! Any ideas, suggestions, and similar stories would be greatly appreciated. Good night.