The Assassin of Sleep

About three weeks ago, Sam started climbing out of his crib.  We were surprised it had taken him so long.  I am sure he could have climbed out much sooner, he had simply chosen not to.  Once he started to climbing out of it whenever being in it did not suit him, it was time for it to go.  In fact, due to the perpetual bouncing and sheer strength of the boy, the crib itself was held together with wood glue (broken slats) and zip ties (broken springs).  The whole thing was probably a death trap (I exaggerate) and should have been scrapped ages ago.  The only reason we left him in it was so that we could leave him in it -- when he wasn't asleep, but was supposed to be, or he needed a time out.

Well, the crib is gone now, dismantled and taking on rain beside the house, waiting for the next big-garbage-pick-up day.  Samuel now sleeps (if you can call it that) in the bed that was the top bunk of the now de-bunked bunk bed.  My boys aren't ready for two story sleeping.

The first day, he was so excited about his big boy bed that he declined to take a nap.  No biggie.  But around four o'clock he got down on the floor to chase a car under the train table, and...well...fell asleep there.  He slept like that for ninety minutes.  At one point, Catherine even used him as a chair to sit at the table and drink her juice, but he did not budge.  This was to be the last good sleep Sam had for awhile.

The first week, he did not stay in his bed for nap.  The second week, he would stay in the bed, but not sleep.  He would sing and talk loudly to himself.  But, at least he stayed in the room, so I was happy to have the break.  Yesterday, finally, he took a nap, with sleeping and everything.  Here's hoping for a repeat performance this afternoon.

Nighttime is a different matter.  Sam has become a sleep terrorist.  He goes down okay.  He is usually exhausted from no nap.  But he wakes up very, very early.  Sometimes as early at 2 am.  He turns on the light and carries on loud conversations with imaginary trains or Veggie Tale characters.   Poor Jonah is trying to sleep in that room.

Then there is the sneak attack.  Do you know how disconcerting it is to roll over at 4 am and find your 3 year old sitting bolt up right, in the center of your bed, staring at you like some would-be assassin, waiting to whack you?  He has startled me more than once.  It takes a long time for the heart rate to recover after that.  Forget about sleep.  Apparently he climbs over Hubband to take up this position, which begs the question, why doesn't Hubband put him back to bed, but I digress.

A few mornings, after an hours or so, I have coaxed him back to sleep, only to have to turn around and wake him up to get him ready for school.  This madness must end!  It must end I tell you!!