Jeffrey has been in his "big boy bed" for about a month now (give or take). The transition was pretty easy at first, although every time we put him down he kept pointing to his crib saying, "Nigh-nigh... Nigh-nigh..." in sort of a sad tone. (I don't blame him. That bed is familiar and comfy and he feels safe there.) But, we stuck with it. Naps were and are a cinch. Bedtime, however, is a slightly different story.
And it really hasn't helped with 107 degree temps with no air conditioning. For the past week when the temps hit their high, Scott slept out on the couch so he could keep watch over the completely open house, and I brought Jeffrey into bed with me so that he wasn't alone in his room with an open window. (I just have this nagging fear that he'll either find a way to crawl out, or someone will steal him. He is our prized possession, ya know. I just feel safer with him cuddled next to me.) Starting late last week when the temps finally fell back to the low-nighties (as if you could really call that "falling temps"), we put him back in his bed.
And the flexing began. I think he thinks it's a game when he gets out of his bed, opens his bedroom door and peers out. He never (correction, rarely) actually leaves the bedroom. He just opens the door a crack, peeks out and shuts it again... then opens it again... and shuts it again... We calmly tuck him back in bed and leave. Which is another invitation to crawl out of bed, sneak to the door, open it a crack and peek out, etc. This usually goes on for about 20 minutes, sometimes 30. But by then, he's pretty much tuckered out and will stay in bed (after a gentle scolding).
Last night, however, this went on for a good 2 hours. We at first remained calm. Then it escalated and he got the "firm voice" (almost a yell, but not quite - really more low and growly than anything)... Then it turned into the "get your butt back in bed!"... which then turned into a relatively gentle butt-swat... I would just keep tucking him back in bed and leaving. I know he knew I meant business, but honestly I think after a couple of weeks of super late nights and early mornings, he's completely sleep deprived, which always is a recipe for disaster. (All you parents know EXACTLY what I'm talking about.) Once, he peeked out, I was waiting for him and told him to get back in bed, to which he responded with a slammed door, followed by a loud thud, a couple of seconds of silence, then a loud, "Owie!!!!" followed by crying. I, of course, went in to see what happened. I just found him in a heap on the floor holding his forehead saying "owie... owie...". (My guess is that he turned to run back to bed, and underestimated where the dresser was and likely ran into the corner. Sad, but kinda funny at the same time.) Another time I opened the door and he had his pillow and blanket in hand ready to make the move to the livingroom or our bedroom. (Hey, at least he planned ahead!) At the end of 2 hours, he had resorted to taking his pants (and diaper) off - my guess is because he knew we'd have to come in and tend to him. Aha! Attention!
What a stinker.
Scott finally snuggled in bed with him until he fell asleep. Total time from the time we started our bedtime routine to the time he fell asleep: 3.5 hours. A record.
Then at 2:30 this morning I heard a massive thud through the monitor (yes, I still use it after 2 years - for good reason), followed by a couple seconds of silence, and the familiar, "OWIE!!!!!" and crying. I popped out of bed to check on him. He was in a heap on the floor. He fell out of bed. (There is something amusing about how he says "owie" and cries... It's sad, but it always tugs at my heart strings.) I just tucked him back in bed nice and tight, and he fell right back asleep.
But... now it's 3:00 am and I can't sleep a wink. I'm uncomfortable. I'm uber tired. My baby is wiggling like she's swimming the 400 meter freestyle. And, frankly, I'm thirsty. Ugh.
Jeffrey also learned a few weeks ago how to open one of our side gates in the yard. He's about 2 feet from reaching the latch, but he learned that if he wiggles the gate just right, it'll pop open. The first time this happened, Scott and I, luckily, were in the front yard yapping as I was watering the plants. Scott glanced over his shoulder to find Jeffrey half-way down the court street (shared driveway, whatever you want to call it), proudly giggling to himself. We've since jammed a stick in the little latch hole thing to keep it from popping open. However, the brilliant escape artist that he is decided to sneak back there last evening to have a looksee while daddy was bringing in groceries and mommy was taking out garbage - thus having a few minutes to himself. I got back inside, and made my way to the backyard to play, when I heard the gate slam.
Now... I was at the sliding glass door at this time. The gate is all the way on the OTHER side of the house, and literally feet from the court street, which is just a few meters from the cul de sac. I darted out of the house, running barefoot across teensy tiny (sharp) gravel, out the gate, jumped over the neighbor's retaining wall and down the street to grab Jeffrey who was already at the cul de sac and proceeding to run into the street. I don't think I've ever run so fast in my life. (Amazing what adrenaline does for you.) Mind you, I'm almost 31 weeks pregnant. Yeah... nice picture. Jeffrey was LAUGHING the entire way. He was just having a ball! I caught up to him in the middle of the cul de sac - out in the open street. (Praise Jesus that no cars were coming, and that our ghetto neighbor, Consuela Andretti, wasn't coming or going - cuz she literally reaches breakneck speeds in and out of the drive.) Scary stuff. You don't ever want to see your kid running for the street. (I just get this image of the scene from Pet Cemetery when the kids gets hit by the semi in my mind... That sucks.)
Earlier this week, Jeffrey got his first (three) bee stings. Actually... I'm not certain they were bees. Could have been a wasp. Could have been a foul-mooded fly of some sort. Either way, we were playing in the yard as I was watering plants and Jeffrey was kicking around his soccer ball when he started grabbing at his shirt and belly saying, "Owie! Owie!" followed by a shrieking scream. I immediately ran to him and lifted his shirt. There was a bee fluttering around his elbow (which is why I think he got stung by bees). I figured he had been stung, so I whisked him into the kitchen to have a look. Three stings right by his belly button, already swollen white with a big red dot in the middle. My first thought was, "Good Lord, I hope he isn't allergic." I've been stung a thousand times (well... at least several dozen... I never learned), and I'm familiar with the "sting" of a bee sting, but luckily it does fade rather quickly. I just listened to his breathing to make sure he wasn't going into anaphylactic shock. Meanwhile, I had Scott make up a thick paste of baking soda and water. (This is what we always used when I was a kid... seemed to take care of the swelling and pain.) I wasn't positive that the stingers were out, so I ran a warm bath and washed the area really well, followed by some ointment and Tylenol. He was such a trooper. He cried for about 5 minutes, then was back to his happy self, even though his belly was all swollen. He pointed and said, "Owie..." Yeah... owie is right! Bee stings are no fun!
Last night Jeffrey decided that the hose nozzle was a microphone, into which he sang the ABC's. It's moments like these that warms a mama's heart. I love the way he sings... "A...B... C...D..." (inaudible inaudible) "GEE!!!!... H... I" (inaudible inaudible) "blebble blebble bleh..." (that's his version of "L M N O P") "QUE!!!!! R!!!! S!!!!! ... T!!!!" (inaudible) " VEE!!!!" (inaudible) "EX!!!!!" (inaudible) "ZEE!!!!!!" He's so cute.
This is the first week with my new schedule. Already making plans with mommy friends on my first Thursday off. We're walking with Mia (and girls) and Tamara (and kids), and later hanging with Kim and her son by the pool (if I manage enough courage to actually be seen in a bathing suit, eegads).
But for today, I have to head to work in short order, and hopefully snag a nap when I pick up Jeffrey at 12:30. I'm seriously pooped. Having two little humans to care for should be interesting.
1 comment:
OH MY GOODNESS!!! I'm at a loss for any other words. That kid is cure though... and mischievous like his uncle!
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