The onset of another teething period has once again cut us all adrift from our full night's sleep. Perhaps the move from her crib to her big girl's bed is interrupting her sleep. Maybe the move into her new room is interrupting her sleep. Whatever the cause, the effect is self-evident: sleep for all the primates in our small tribe has become a more precious commodity lately.
There's not much we can do about broken sleep, however, as parents we can establish some rules for the road that hopefully leads our tiny offspring off to sleep.
When she got bumped up to the monkey room out of her baby room we made some concessions to smooth that process. After her good night story and we depart, she would call out for us, with new and improved excuses: she needed to poop or pee, or she needed a drink. What parent could ignore such demands?
Then there were others excuses for not sleeping. Armed with her newly expanding vocubulary and her very basic conversational skills, she would attempt to engage her parents intellectually. "Daddy, what's vovo and grandpa's dog's name?"
Family trivia exercises were not about to be added to our daughter's very short list of legitimate bed time excuses.
For the first week after Havana was liberated from the cell-bars of her crib to her big girl's bed, it was as if that old crib had left behind an invisible force-field around her new bed. Such is the power of established routine, that it NEVER even occurred to her that she could get out of bed and wander around her room.
Until that one night. The substance of her new reality finally dawned on her. And she began to vacate her bed. We had, perhaps mistakenly, conceded to allowing the light to be left on after we left her. This was a genuine attempt on the part of her caring parents to soften the blow of moving out of her crib.
She began asking for the light to be left on. That should have been a clue. We thought we were helping her transition, but in actuality, we had once again been outwitted by our 2-year old.
We would walk in on her doing all sorts of prohibited past-bedtime activities. We caught her in the act on many occasions. Pj-ed, with her sucker in mouth, looking up innocently with a dozen books scattered over her bed.
Now, as her parents leave her to sleep each night, so too the light once again goes off.
Did she complain? No.
She probably figured she had a good run for her money, but that the law was innevitably gonna catch up with her. And it did.
There's not much we can do about broken sleep, however, as parents we can establish some rules for the road that hopefully leads our tiny offspring off to sleep.
When she got bumped up to the monkey room out of her baby room we made some concessions to smooth that process. After her good night story and we depart, she would call out for us, with new and improved excuses: she needed to poop or pee, or she needed a drink. What parent could ignore such demands?
Then there were others excuses for not sleeping. Armed with her newly expanding vocubulary and her very basic conversational skills, she would attempt to engage her parents intellectually. "Daddy, what's vovo and grandpa's dog's name?"
Family trivia exercises were not about to be added to our daughter's very short list of legitimate bed time excuses.
For the first week after Havana was liberated from the cell-bars of her crib to her big girl's bed, it was as if that old crib had left behind an invisible force-field around her new bed. Such is the power of established routine, that it NEVER even occurred to her that she could get out of bed and wander around her room.
Until that one night. The substance of her new reality finally dawned on her. And she began to vacate her bed. We had, perhaps mistakenly, conceded to allowing the light to be left on after we left her. This was a genuine attempt on the part of her caring parents to soften the blow of moving out of her crib.
She began asking for the light to be left on. That should have been a clue. We thought we were helping her transition, but in actuality, we had once again been outwitted by our 2-year old.
We would walk in on her doing all sorts of prohibited past-bedtime activities. We caught her in the act on many occasions. Pj-ed, with her sucker in mouth, looking up innocently with a dozen books scattered over her bed.
Now, as her parents leave her to sleep each night, so too the light once again goes off.
Did she complain? No.
She probably figured she had a good run for her money, but that the law was innevitably gonna catch up with her. And it did.
