Baby's Got a Brand New Bed!

Well ...

Wally and the Beav moved in together today.

I was going to wait for awhile before bunking them up, and while I'm not entirely sure I won't end up regretting this, I ended up giving into Jones's begging and doing it sooner than expected.

It was going to be even sooner - the room was set up yesterday - but Jones did some high-octaine complaining, which we've really been working on lately, so I told him he'd have to wait, which made today The Day.

I decided to try first at nap time. My thinking was that it'd give them a chance to get the sillies out before bedtime. It didn't work. There were sillies A'PLENTY, and in spite of REPEATED demands that they be quiet and quit jumping on their beds, they never calmed down, so I put Jones back in his old room.

Freddie stayed in his big boy bed in his room. After I left, though, he got up and came into the den, whimpering and saying he was "scare." I went in and laid down with him for a minute, surprised that HE would be scared, and after he got calmed down, he went right out, all by himself.

I think they learned their lesson from my splitting them up. At bedtime, they were quiet as mice, except for a few squeaks out of Freddie. Just to put the fear of God in them, I popped in when Freddie made a little noise. Jones looked angst-y and said, genuinely, "I sorry, Mama. I told Freddie, 'Shhh.' It's all my fault." I knew it wasn't AT ALL his fault, but I was proud of his humble spirit.

They actually went to sleep much more quickly tonite than I'd expected them, too - so here's hoping I haven't made a huge mistake.

I'm nervous about the whole thing - but I remember being nervous when I took Jones out of his crib, too, so I know it'll pass, and I know they'll be fine. In case I was inclined to forget that, God prepared me with yesterday's Bible reading.

I read in Psalm 121 and loved the reminder that "He Who watches over Israel will neither slumber nor sleep. The Lord watches over you ..." As I was making the boys' beds last nite and worrying about one of them falling out of it - or Freddie getting out of it - and thinking that tonite would probably be sleepless for me, the Holy Spirit whispered that "He Who watches over me ... and Jones and Freddie ... will neither slumber nor sleep," so why should I worry, if He's watching over them? What more can I do?!? As they get bigger and into more and more things that I will be a nervous wreck about, I need to tattoo that to my wrist:

"He Who watches over them will neither slumber nor sleep."

So the boys are snug as a bug in their brand new beds (Jeremy just checked on them and said, "Freddie's in there, snoring like Shemp.") The real moment of truth will be in the morning when we find out whether or not Freddie gets up before we go in to GET him up.

Fingers crossed that he passes the test! I'm counting on Jones to remind him that there even IS a test.
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First, here's a video the illustrates what a remarkably grateful heart Jones has - and I pray he always does! This was taken on Wednesday nite when Mom delivered the mattresses she bought for the boys' new beds.



"Thank you very much ... for getting my bed to sleep in Freddie's room. You're boo-tih-full!"

When I first started working on the room, he saw it and said, "Look what you've done, Mama! ... It's beautiful!" He has NO trouble showing his emotions, that one!

This second video is of the boys while they were supposed to be sleeping today.


I can only imagine they're mimicking me with their, "Boys, boys ..."

They were watching the dogs run by on the street outside.

FINALLY! Asleep!

In my defense, I told Jeremy if he'd come up with some
Tarheel memorabilia, I'd happily hang it in the boys' room.

Jones reminding Freddie to "Shhh,"
so he doesn't get sent back to his old room

a Baby No More

There's a song in the musical "Ragtime" called "Back to Before." It's one of my favorites, talking about how, once you've been exposed to one way of thinking you can never again think the way you previously thought. That's what I was singing to myself when it was 9:30 last nite, and Jones had been in bed for two hours but still hadn't fallen asleep. Jeremy asked, "Should we just put the crib back together?" I didn't respond to him but thought to myself, in my best Marin Mazzie impression (which isn't a very good one, by the way), "We can NEVER go back to be-foooorrreeee."

You're probably gonna need some backstory to understand parts of that paragraph. Last I posted, the crib was still standing alongside the "big boy bed" in all its John Deere regalia.

Well, yesterday, that all changed.

The boys and I had come in from the park, and it was nap time. Jones told me his firetruck was sleepy. Unluckily for Jones, I learned at the beach that he won't go to sleep with that firetruck in his bed, so I told him it could sleep on his shelf or in his big boy bed but not in his crib with Jones. Hearing that the firetruck was sleeping in the big boy bed, Jones climbed in, too. No tears. No singing. No anything other than "Where he is, there I will be also." In not so many words.

I made sure he understood that, if he got up, he'd be in big trouble. I then sat outside of his closed door, and while he didn't get up, he DID keep talking to his firetruck, so I went in and put the firetruck on a shelf where I thought he couldn't get it. Ten minutes later, he got it. Stealth little sucker got out of bed and climbed up to the truck without me even hearing him, until I went in to check on him and saw him standing there.

After the promised punishment, he got back in the bed, where he stayed, quietly (but not asleep), until I went in to get him up an hour or so later. I saw this as my chance to make the break with the crib, like when Camden said he wanted to give his papi to Payton, and Sissy used it as an excuse to rid him of the "fakers" that he'd double fisted since birth.

As Jones and Freddie played post-naps, I took the crib apart and carried it down to the basement. Jones didn't seem fazed at all by this. In fact, he and Freddie were in Jones's room, playing on the new bed, while I took down the old one. Jones would say, "It BOOM, Mama!" every time one of the crib walls fell.

At bedtime, I expected a fight. There was none. We sang, as usual. He then walked over to his bed and climbed up and in. He stayed there, too - I kept walking back every so often for two hours, and he never fell asleep, though he never got up, either.  When I went back about 9:30, he was still awake, saw me peep in (trying to get a picture, if the truth be told), and started the waterworks.

He was then up ... I don't know ... SIX? times in quick succession. Each time, I'd punish him and put him straight back in the bed. He'd immediately jump up and run to the door again, waking up Freddie in the process.

That's when Jeremy asked about putting the crib back up. It'd have been so much easier, but I also knew "we could never go back to before." The toothpaste was out of the tube. Our little boy is all grows up, and there's no undoing that now.

So after about six or so rapid-fire jump-ups, he just didn't get up again. He just stayed there, finally sleeping. A little later, I took the air mattress in to lay beside his bed (just in case). When I walked back into the den, I passed the giant canvas of his newborn picture. I kind of lost it.

Jones was none the wiser. He just stayed in his bed, sweetly sleeping, until I went in and got him up this morning. Even when Jeremy and Freddie paraded by his partially open door around 6:45, Jones stayed in his bed, talking to the tractors on his sheets, and waiting for his mama, just as he'd been told to do.

When I went in, we cuckled on the new fleece on his new bed. I told him how incredibly proud I was of his obedience, and he jumped all over the bed before asking if he could get up. Jones Pressley is a VERY good boy, and I really AM incredibly proud of him.

Still, I dreaded today's nap time. He did great, though. It took about 45 minutes for him to fall asleep, but he never got up, and tonite, he went to bed with no fanfare whatsoever. I honestly can't believe how much easier this transition was than I thought it'd be.

I shouldn't be surprised. I've been praying about it, since the first time (one of only two) that Jones jumped out of his crib several months ago. Why should it surprise me that God eased the transition like I asked Him to?  Oh, me of little faith ...

Now, I fully expect to go get Freddie up one day soon. He'll widen his eyes, tilt his head, and softly say, "Big boy?" THAT transition, however, is gonna take a LOT more prayer.