I was really hoping. Really really hoping that Wallie would stay in her crib until she was 27. Then we moved here and her crib (which was my crib, you can read about its bittersweet history here) wouldn't fit down the hallway.
So, until we get a
dog crate bed and baby gate, she's sleeping on her mattress on the floor. For the record, I'd just like to say that naps? No problem. She walks herself into her room, snuggles up, goes to sleep. But putting her to bed? Is a fucking nightmare the likes of which we haven't seen since we had nursing newborns in the house.
Last night she was up running around until 10:45PM. Bedtime is 7:00PM. And she is TI-YERD at 7:00PM. Nothing scares the pants off you more than when you are armpit-deep in a box unpacking dishes in a completely silent house, and suddenly, a little body is hovering over your shoulder.
You know on SuperNanny when the parents have to silently return their kids to their beds 47 times until they are so exhausted they fall asleep? That was us last night. And the entire time, Wallie was laughing at us. Threatening to take away privileges had no effect. Threatening to turn the lights off and shut the door (she likes lights on, door open) had no effect. Telling her she wouldn't get to go to the park today? Nada. Telling her she could stay home later in the week when her sister goes to visit her friends' new kitty? Rolled off like water off a duck's back.
She finally fell asleep just shy of 11PM. Then at 1:00AM she crawled into our bed. At 2:30 she woke up screaming from a bad dream. That woke Bunny up who had to be put back to bed (for the second time, she woke up once before from all of Wallie's stomping around). At 4:30 Wallie needed water, and at 7:00 Bunny finally joined the party.
I haven't had a solid night's sleep since we moved two weeks ago. And as much as I love making, growing, birthing, and snuggling babies...fuck. that. We're done.