If It Ain't Broke....

I'd love to know who coined the phrase "If it ain't broke, don't fix it." Never have I come across a time in my life where I should have listened to those 7 little words more than when we moved Grey to his new bed. WTF were we thinking? We had a 2 1/2 year old confined to baby jail and he LOVED it. You don't let a convict out of his cell because you think he'll do better in one without bars. Yet, stupid us did just that. Minus the convict part. And we really don't think of his crib as baby jail. Mostly we thought of it was a safe place for Greyden to sleep. Ummmm.....anyway. 

Now that we've been in the big boy bed for about a month, you're probably wondering how he's doing, right? Well, let's just say that not a morning goes by that I don't threaten to put his crib back up. Yeah, it's that good. Apparently the Lightning McQueen bed comes with an alarm that goes off at 6:00 am on the nose every morning. I have gone over that thing with a fine toothed comb and I have yet to find it, but I can assure you it's there. How do I know this? Well, the toddler in my room every morning at 6:00 (give or take 5 minutes - no I'm not exaggerating) is a pretty dead giveaway. The first morning that he braved coming downstairs by himself (I believe it was day 3) we woke up to Grey standing on our bed yelling at the top of his lungs "THERE'S A KITTY IN THE BED!" Ho. Ly. $hit. Apparently Grey thought is was strange that the cat was sleeping up there, but totally normal that he was also standing up there. Never mind the fact that we can't figure out how he actually got up there. We pretty much realized that we need to nip this in the bud proto, before we both end up with heart attacks.

Our grand solution? "Greyden, you can't leave your bed in the morning. When you wake up you need to call for mommy and daddy and we'll come up and get you." Cue the blank toddler look. Somewhere in that little speech, the lines of communication apparently got crossed because now we have a toddler screaming and crying from his bed (he got half the message) every. single. morning. At 6:00 am. I freaking kid you not. Back in the good old, pre-toddler bed days (was it really only a month ago?) he would usually wake up early, but roll around in his bed for up to an hour before calling for us. Not anymore. Now when he's up, we're up and that's it. At least I think that's it. It's kind of hard to remember in this lack of sleep-induced haze I've been in for the last few weeks.

Oh, and not only that, we're regressing. He's decided that he needs to be rocked to sleep now. The whole point of the big boy bed was so that we could put him in bed, tuck him in, and walk out the door. Somewhere along the line we screwed that up. So far the only thing we've been able to accomplish is breaking the pacifier habit by telling him he's a "big boy" now. And I'm not even sure how much of an "accomplishment" that is. I think the only thing we managed to do is break him of wanting to be a "big boy", because now every time we try to get him to do something and bust out the "you're a big boy now" phrase, he informs us that no, he's not a big boy. I think we've just kissed the possibility of potty training any time soon goodbye....