Toddler Bed

Will learned a new trick over the weekend -- climbing out of his crib. On Friday evening while Mark was out for our Friday night Salsarita's splurge, I heard Will saying from upstairs "I want out! I want to get out!" As this is rather unusual behavior (he typically goes right to bed without much fuss), I went upstairs to check.

And There. He. Was. Standing outside his crib, holding a blue block. Staring at me.

I took one look, remained eerily calm, and quickly and efficiently removed the lamps, piggy bank, signed Carolina basketball and any other item from the room I could get my hands on.

With this, shall we say, clue of developmental readiness in hand Mark and I set about transitioning young William to a bed this weekend.

(insert expletive here).

Night one went GREAT! He went to sleep, didn't break anything and other than the loud boom and crash we heard around 9:30 all was fine. (He rolled out of bed. I found him still asleep on the floor, picked him up and put him right back to bed).

Nap time on day 2 was a disaster. Complete disaster. In roughly five minutes he managed to mess up the blind/shades (I removed them), take apart his bed, move the double bed in the room out about a foot from the wall, pull off all the covers of said double bed, and I think I caught him just short of attacking the dresser.

Sigh.