Perrin woke up at 5:00 this morning in a really cranky mood. He was banging around in his crib and wailing. So I did what any other sane and loving mother would do at that ungodly hour--I ignored him. 5:00 is waaaaay too early. My plan was for him to go back to sleep and wake up in a cheerful, snuggly mood.
Suddenly, I heard a loud BOOM. And then he was REALLY screaming. I rushed into his room and found him on the floor in front of his crib, crying his eyes out. I knew it was bound to happen sooner or later--it had actually surprised me that my little daredevil hadn't attempted to climb out of his crib until now--but now that it's happened, I'm not sure what to do. I don't think he's ready for a toddler bed. (I can just imagine how much fun that'll be to get him to take a nap when I can't secure him in his cell. I mean, uh, crib.) But we also can't have him climbing out of his crib and falling on the floor.
So what's a mom to do? Do I bite the bullet and convert his crib to a toddler bed even though he's only 19 months old and more likely to play with his toys all night than sleep if given the choice? Do I hope it was a fluke or that he learned his lesson and won't try it again? Do I invest in dozens of pillows to pad the floor around his crib so he'll at least have somewhere soft to land?
Thankfully, all he has to show for his morning acrobatics is a little red bump on his forehead. But I'm still feeling torn. If you have (or have had) a toddler, when did you move them to a toddler bed? Did you have this problem? I could use some experienced-mommy wisdom.
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
The sun will come out tomorrow
Today was kind of rough all day long, starting at about 3:00 this morning when the thunder storms woke me up. I lay awake for the next couple of hours trying to ignore the rumbling outside long enough to fall back asleep. I think I finally drifted off again sometime just after 5. And wouldn't you know it--Perrin woke up calling "Mama! Mama!" at about 5:30. Ugh. For those of you who don't know me very well, I do not cope well if I don't get my beauty rest. And I had plenty to cope with today.
For starters, I realized my favorite pair of jeans has a gaping hole in the back pocket. Who knows how long I've been advertising my underwear through that hole. To make matters worse, Perrin was kind of a brat today. I gave him milk this morning--he threw a fit. I tried to go to the bathroom alone--he threw a fit. I tossed his toothbrush in the trash after he dipped it in toilet water--he threw a fit. I wouldn't let him eat the year-old charred bits of who knows what that have settled into the bottom of our toaster oven--you guessed it, he threw a fit. He went down for a nap around lunch time (thank you, thank you, Jesus! Freedom!) but only slept for an hour. One measly hour. Which means I didn't have time to get all my work done that I needed to do. To top it all off, I had a fiasco with my twice-baked potatoes this evening. I don't want to get into it, but let's just say there are half-cooked chunks of potato ALL OVER the kitchen. I'm not kidding.
Thank goodness Trey came home when he did--I was about to throw a fit on the kitchen floor right along with Perrin (who was mad at me this time because I was cooking instead of playing with him and his piggy bank). We ate dinner, then Trey ran a bath for me and picked out an assortment of bubbles and bath salts for me to choose from. He even hooked my iPod up to a speaker and brought it into the bathroom for me. I took a long, steamy bath while the boys went to Walmart. ::Bliss::
Funny how the world can seem much cheerier after a few minutes of alone time and a relaxing bubble bath. And Trey even promised to do the dishes for me tonight after Perrin goes to bed. Now if I can just convince him to clean up those stupid potatoes too.
I want to end on a happy note, so I'm going to list some things I'm thankful for:
1. My dear, sweet husband who isn't feeling well but could sense that I was at my breaking point and has allowed me to be selfish and whiny tonight
2. My sweet baby boy who is a royal pain in the rear but is also the absolute joy of my heart
3. Tomorrow is a new day. And I have new jeans and no plans to come within ten feet of a potato.
For starters, I realized my favorite pair of jeans has a gaping hole in the back pocket. Who knows how long I've been advertising my underwear through that hole. To make matters worse, Perrin was kind of a brat today. I gave him milk this morning--he threw a fit. I tried to go to the bathroom alone--he threw a fit. I tossed his toothbrush in the trash after he dipped it in toilet water--he threw a fit. I wouldn't let him eat the year-old charred bits of who knows what that have settled into the bottom of our toaster oven--you guessed it, he threw a fit. He went down for a nap around lunch time (thank you, thank you, Jesus! Freedom!) but only slept for an hour. One measly hour. Which means I didn't have time to get all my work done that I needed to do. To top it all off, I had a fiasco with my twice-baked potatoes this evening. I don't want to get into it, but let's just say there are half-cooked chunks of potato ALL OVER the kitchen. I'm not kidding.
Thank goodness Trey came home when he did--I was about to throw a fit on the kitchen floor right along with Perrin (who was mad at me this time because I was cooking instead of playing with him and his piggy bank). We ate dinner, then Trey ran a bath for me and picked out an assortment of bubbles and bath salts for me to choose from. He even hooked my iPod up to a speaker and brought it into the bathroom for me. I took a long, steamy bath while the boys went to Walmart. ::Bliss::
Funny how the world can seem much cheerier after a few minutes of alone time and a relaxing bubble bath. And Trey even promised to do the dishes for me tonight after Perrin goes to bed. Now if I can just convince him to clean up those stupid potatoes too.
I want to end on a happy note, so I'm going to list some things I'm thankful for:
1. My dear, sweet husband who isn't feeling well but could sense that I was at my breaking point and has allowed me to be selfish and whiny tonight
2. My sweet baby boy who is a royal pain in the rear but is also the absolute joy of my heart
3. Tomorrow is a new day. And I have new jeans and no plans to come within ten feet of a potato.
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
Mother's Day Out
It was a bittersweet day here at the Richardson house. My baby boy spent five hours away from home in the company of strangers at his very first day of Mother's Day Out, where he will hopefully be spending every Tuesday from 9-2. He looked so grown up this morning in his brand new jeans, holding his moose-themed lunch box. When we got to his classroom, he clung to me for a few minutes. Then he saw a plastic banana on the floor and forgot all about Mommy. I had intended to give him a hug and kiss goodbye, but he was pretty enthralled with that banana. So I quietly whispered "goodbye" to my sweet baby boy and drifted out the door feeling much sadder than I had expected to.
Perrin and I have been practically inseparable for the entire 18 months he's been alive (or longer than that, if you count the 9 months before he was born when we were REALLY inseparable). The only people who have ever taken care of him for short bursts of time are people he's known his whole life. I was nervous for him ALL DAY LONG. Would he look around and wonder where I was? Would he play well with the other kids? Would he be lonely, scared, confused, angry? And did those nursery workers really think they were going to get my little ball of fire to curl up on one of those nap mats and fall asleep just like that? Ha.
After a trip to the office to do some work, I came home to change clothes and then left to pick him up a little early. When I poked my head into his classroom, he was playing with a dump truck. He really didn't seem too traumatized at all. I knelt beside him and said, "Hi, Perrin!" He glanced up at me and then tinkered with the dump truck some more. Nope, clearly not traumatized. Finally he turned around a gave me a great big hug. That's what I needed.
His teacher told me he'd had a little bit of a rough morning. He cried when he realized I wasn't there. (Poor, poor baby! It's probably good that he didn't start crying until after I was out of earshot or I don't know if I would have had the resolve to leave him). But he ate most of his lunch, played with lots of toys, and even took a nap. I'm impressed.
I told Perrin it was time to go, so he took off across the room saying, "Box! Box! Box! Box!" I had no idea what he was talking about, but then he dug his lunch box out of a big pile of lunch boxes and said, "Bye bye!" I had kind of forgotten about his lunch box. I guess he knows the drill better than I do.
So, we both survived. Perrin may have even handled it better than I did. Plus he looked super duper cute carrying around his moose lunch box. See for yourself:
Perrin and I have been practically inseparable for the entire 18 months he's been alive (or longer than that, if you count the 9 months before he was born when we were REALLY inseparable). The only people who have ever taken care of him for short bursts of time are people he's known his whole life. I was nervous for him ALL DAY LONG. Would he look around and wonder where I was? Would he play well with the other kids? Would he be lonely, scared, confused, angry? And did those nursery workers really think they were going to get my little ball of fire to curl up on one of those nap mats and fall asleep just like that? Ha.
After a trip to the office to do some work, I came home to change clothes and then left to pick him up a little early. When I poked my head into his classroom, he was playing with a dump truck. He really didn't seem too traumatized at all. I knelt beside him and said, "Hi, Perrin!" He glanced up at me and then tinkered with the dump truck some more. Nope, clearly not traumatized. Finally he turned around a gave me a great big hug. That's what I needed.
His teacher told me he'd had a little bit of a rough morning. He cried when he realized I wasn't there. (Poor, poor baby! It's probably good that he didn't start crying until after I was out of earshot or I don't know if I would have had the resolve to leave him). But he ate most of his lunch, played with lots of toys, and even took a nap. I'm impressed.
I told Perrin it was time to go, so he took off across the room saying, "Box! Box! Box! Box!" I had no idea what he was talking about, but then he dug his lunch box out of a big pile of lunch boxes and said, "Bye bye!" I had kind of forgotten about his lunch box. I guess he knows the drill better than I do.
So, we both survived. Perrin may have even handled it better than I did. Plus he looked super duper cute carrying around his moose lunch box. See for yourself:
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