Night 1: The Stun Gun Phenomenon
I’m glad I waited a while to write about Hooper’s transition out of the crib and into his big boy bed. I say that because no night has been the same. The first night, we did everything as before: we covered the window with a sheet for added darkness, we hooked up his white noise machine (a must if you ask me), had the sound monitor by his bed, gave him his blanket, had Papa sing to him, and then we laid him to rest. We sat anxiously on the sofa waiting to hear something. Instead, we heard nothing. Our impatience took over and about 30 minutes after putting him down, we snuck into his room to take a peek. He was just where we laid him, but as soon as the door opened, he popped up and said “Papa” as if he had been lying there with his eyes wide open for the entire 30 minutes. Probably scared straight. Probably wondering what to do in the sea of darkness. Probably wondering where he was. I call this “The Stun Gun Phenomenon”. Willy sang to him again and put him back down and he slept soundly the whole night through. Willy and I, however, tossed and turn wondering what the heck he was doing in there (why are these transitions always harder for the parents than the child?). After all, the possibilities of what he could get into are endless, right? He woke up at his usual time via a little whine that of course sent me shooting out of bed and into his room immediately. He was sitting ever so cutely right behind his guard rail. I scanned the room. Nothing was out of place. The only unusual thing was a small piece of paper on Hooper’s mouth. In the bed, I found the stick part to a lollipop. It was wet, clearly sucked on. Not sure where it came from or if it even had any candy on it. That was night one.
Night 2: Hiccups
Oh how we gloated after that first night. We talked all day about how good our big boy is and how lucky we are and how easy the transition was and how we were going to sleep so soundly and then “The Stun Gun Phenomenon” ended. It was so abrupt. Suddenly Hooper realized he had unlimited access to his toys, noise maker, monitor, door and well, when we tried to put him down, we heard him play with his toys, then we heard him turn his noise maker off, then we heard him talking into the monitor like it was a microphone, then we heard him giggle the door handle, and then our seamless little transition started coming apart at the seams. We went in, put him down again. It was quiet for a few minutes. Then came another giggle of the door handle. We went in again, this time the room smelled like shit. A diaper change was in order. Then we put him down again. Third time is a charm, or so they say, because he slept… but only until 6:30, two hours before his normal wake up time. When I came into the room, he was standing by his bed with his blanket holding his monitor like a microphone again. I put him down for a nap later that morning and, again, the third time was the charm.
Night 3&4: Midnight Munches
These nights were nearly identical. Both nights started great. He went down with ease. I heard him the first night around 2:30am whining. It seemed to go on for a half hour or so and then he was quiet. (As a side note, why is it the mother’s ear that’s always so tuned in to that damn monitor? I’ve always been a good sleeper. In college, I remember taking a nap while my roommate vacuumed. But now, as a mom, my ear is to that monitor like little balls of poop stuck to Hooper’s nut sack. Willy, on the other hand, rests soundly and gets rather upset when I wake him to see if he’s hearing what I’m hearing and to help me decipher a plan of action. Oh the perks of being a dad, I suppose.) Anyway, on to the whining that begs the question: Would you like some cheese with that whine? Which in turn leads to the title of these nights being “Midnight Munches”. I know, it’s a bit convoluted, but whatever. So night 3 wasn’t so bad. He whined, he went back to sleep, he woke up at his normal time. Night 4, however, was the worst yet. The whining started and, again, I was the only one awoken and disturbed by it. I woke up Willy who lovingly let me stay in bed while he went in to check on him after the whining wouldn’t stop. He was sitting by his closed door. He sang to him, but him back down and got back in bed. But, alas, the whining returned. This boy must really like cheese. Willy returned, laid in bed and cuddled with him, and again, returned to bed. The whining returned and we finally gave in and put him in his crib. These events took place over an hour and a half or so, so you can’t say we didn’t give it a valiant effort. He slept soundly and that was that. So while we were left asking if he’d like some cheese with his whine, we really just needed our own
glass bottle of wine.