The Great Bed Swap of 2013

All four of my children have used the same crib. Sam started sleeping in it when he was four months old, and continued until we moved to Philly when Lucy was born. She was the first to have an actual nursery with decor and paint colors to match, seen here. She stayed in there for a long while, until we moved her out to get ready for Maggie. Maggie slept in there until a few months after Fred was born, and there he's stayed. Until now.

On Friday morning I was getting the girls dressed for the day, when all of a sudden their doorway was filled with Freddie. 'I wake up!' he exclaimed. Then he said, 'I hurt my belly!' and sure enough, his little tummy was all red from where he had hoisted himself (headfirst, I might add) over the crib rail. First I made sure he was ok, and then I sent SOB a text to inform him that we would be bed shopping that very night. Interestingly enough, later in the day when it was nap time, he got up to his room a few steps ahead of me, and somehow managed to climb back into the crib as well. I was flummoxed, and so I removed him to the floor and asked him to show me how he had gotten into his bed. He could not/would not show me. I'm pretty convinced that a ghost lifted him in there.

So that evening we took them to Ikea, the bastion of cheap, impulsive furniture buying, and tried to pick out a new bed for him. But we couldn't really find one we liked. We had planned on buying the same bed we had for the girls, because all of the other furniture already matched it, but they don't sell it anymore. So then we started thinking, maybe we ought to get the girls new beds and let Freddie have one of theirs. I've been thinking that bunk beds might work well in their room, because of its dimensions. It's long and narrow, so to maximize space I thought bunk beds along the long wall would work well. SOB didn't like most of them because they were too high. You see, my girls have the habit of jumping around like monkeys, so we decided on this one where the bottom bunk is actually on the floor.

Now they have so much more room to play in there, and they seem to enjoy the sleeping, too. Twice now Lucy has pushed Maggie off of the ladder as she attempted to climb to the top bunk, but we're working on that.

So then there's this: 

The sleeping is only going so-so, but he loves it. Me? I get a little weepy every time I walk in there. We disassembled the crib, and I totally reorganized our tiny attic so that we could store it up there. I'm never getting rid of that crib until I have a grand baby who needs a place to lay their sleepy head. That's reasonable, right?

The Great Room Swap of '11

Yesterday I mentioned about moving Maggie out of the nursery so Freddie could take up residence there. Let me elaborate on that a little bit, because, lo we are involved in some major shit over here.

Now, we are no strangers to re-arranging in this household. We lived in our last for three years, and everybody got switched around at some point, and Sam even got switched twice! All of these babies complicate things, I tell you! We are now in a similar situation here are we were back when Maggs was born. At this house, the big kids each have their own rooms and Maggie was in the nursery. There are only three bedrooms upstairs, so when Freddie came along, we kept him in our room. Until we moved him into our closet. The closet was easily big enough to accommodate him, his pack-n-play and my rocking chair, so it wasn't a big deal for us to keep him in there, and Maggie in the nursery.

But now he's four months old. And my two biggest kids are away at their Nunnie and Pappy's house for the week, and so my mom suggested that this might be a good time to execute the room swap-age. She is one smart cookie, that mother of mine. So on Sunday night, after Sam and Lucy had been deposited at their grandparents, we put Maggie to bed in Lucy's room.

And she flipping loved it.

We didn't hear a peep from her all night, and in the morning when she woke, she just called out for me as she did when she was in her crib. Then she successfully napped in there yesterday, slept in there last night and is currently napping in there again.

So I moved all of the furniture from Sam's room into there. Sam and Lucy had matching stuff from Ikea, so we thought it would be easier to move all of the matching stuff into one room and just buy him a new bed. Then I got some cute new matchy-matchy bedding from Target (some of it even on clearance!) and Viola! The girls' room is (nearly) complete!

(That tube on the bookshelf is a package of wall decorations that I hope to get up today or tomorrow, to tie the whole room together.)

(Also, the Bert and Ernie rug totes does not match, but it was SOB's when he was little, and we've put it in one of the kids' room ever since we had them.)

So far, so good! Sam's room is practicially empty, and Fred is sleeping on ladybug and flower, sheets, but hopefully by the end of the week the bunk beds, crib bedding and mattresses will arrive. Otherwise my five year old will be sleeping on the couch.

Now we'll just have to see how Lucy reacts when she comes home...Stay tuned!

The Exodus, The Big Kids and Other Things

This post is going to be a scattered mess, so inspired by Miss Zoot, I'm going to use bullet points!

*This morning Sam came downstairs fully dressed, all on his own accord. His clothes were seasonally appropriate, they matched and he had put his jammies away. I was so surprised when he came into to wake me at 7am pretty much ready to go. He couldn't wait to get to school to tell his teacher all about it. He is getting so big and responsible. Thank god he still wants me to get into bed with him to cuddle occasionally, though. Love that boy.

*Speaking of getting big, Lucy has been wearing underpants for over a week now. I haven't posted anything yet because she had been having lots of accidents, but yesterday and today have been better. For the few weeks leading up to last, she was taking off her diapers and being, in general, a pain in the ass when it came to any bodily function. After visiting with my parents, I simply told her we weren't doing diapers any more. She's very happy about the development, but still doesn't have full awareness of when she has to go, so it's been one step forward, two steps back. Wish us luck!

*Even though our house is under contract, we still have to keep scheduling showings. HATE.

*My baby is cute, but you knew that already, didn't you?

*In the past week, two of our neighbors have put their houses up for sale by owner. Let me just say, they are fucking lucky that we already had an offer in our our house, or I might have had to go on a midnight sign stealing expedition. I guess since the coolest people on the street are leaving (well, maybe the second coolest after these guys) they figured there was no reason to stick around!

Remeber that Time I Had to Forcibly Remove Sam from Swim Class? That Was Fun.

Oh, today was a fun one.

Ever since we got home on Saturday both kids have been like little Jekyll and Hyde's. One moment sweet and loving, the next instant making curse the day they were born. My mother-in-law came for a visit on Sunday afternoon, which, while fun, only added to the chaos for the kiddos. All morning Sam was on good behavior, so I should have known I was in for it. But the cock-eyed optimist in me was hoping the trend of goodness would continue.

WRONG!

As soon as we got outside to leave for swimming he took off through the yard, attempting to slip through the small space in the fence that leads to the neighbor's yard. You know, the space that I, or any other adult, could never fit through but that a 2 year old could slip through with ease. Yeah, that one. Luckily I caught him in the nick of time. He's really been into running away from us lately, and god help me I'm going to end up giving him a separated shoulder. I usually just barely manage to grab him by one arm just before he darts into traffic, slips through fence holes, falls down the steps, etc. So I grab him up and we pack into the car.

As soon as we got into the pool I calmed down. He was so excited that the water wasn't freezing (like at the beach) that he kept laughing and telling me that the water was hot! Yay! But when our regular teacher didn't show up and the fill in was instructing from the deck, things got ugly.

He started by grabbing my hair, clumped into a bun on top of my head so as to keep it dry, and yanked it as hard as he could to get me to put my face into the water. All the while he's screaming 'Mommy do! Mommy do!' None of the other kids, naturally, are trying to drown their mothers, so they are all giving me the stink eye over the yelling.

Later in the class the kids get little toys to throw and swim to. Usually Sam is really good during this portion of class because there is this one particular toy he adores. It's a cup that is shaped like a monkey head (a very realistic monkey head, I might add) that has a handle and a spout at the mouth. He calls it the whoo-whoo bucket, and if given the choice he prefers a yellow one. For a few minutes he was pleasant and cooperative. However, when it was time to put the whoo-whoo bucket away, things got ugly. Specifically, he took the whoo-whoo bucket and used it to smack me in the face as hard as he could. Almost instantly I could feel my lip starting to swell. I pulled him in close, explained that he gave mommy a big boo-boo, and that if he had one more incident of bad behavior we were leaving class early.

Well, that's what I meant to say. What I actually said probably wasn't that, um, nice.

Not even two minutes later all of us mommies were putting the kids on the deck for their jumping exercises when Sam spied the lap lane dividers. Occasionally someone will want to swim laps during our class time and the lifeguards will pull the lap dividers into the pool, and Sam is just fascinated by this. As soon as he saw them, he started moving towards them, all the while watching my face. I used my 'nice but threatening' voice to call him back over, but he was already too far gone. 'Mommy, NO!' he exclaimed, and when he turned to run he ended up pushing the little girl next to us into the pool. Thank god her mother was right there to catch her. And that the woman who teaches the class right before ours was still there, because she grabbed up Sam before he could hurt anyone else or himself. The water is almost five feet deep where we were, and it's is almost a foot below the deck so I was having trouble climbing out. She offered to hand him back to me down in the pool, but I just shook my head, climbed out and headed us off to the showers.

Unfortunately the bad behavior didn't end there. There were several tantrums thrown, and at one point he slammed our locker door while my head was inside, giving me a nice bump to add to my fat lip. I had intended to squeeze a small workout in after swimming class, but he was being too rotten for the babysitters too, so we headed home.

During the entirety of our ten minute drive he kept repeating 'Sorry Mommy. Mommy, sorry.' I could tell from his voice and his face that he meant it, too. It was breaking my heart just a little. As soon as we got home I put him in his bed even though it was almost two hours before his regular nap time. He was asleep in less than two minutes.

Two hours later he is still asleep.

Two hours later and my swollen lip has gone down.

Two hours later and I am keeping my fingers crossed that I get my sweet Sammy back after this nap. And maybe that I can get in a workout sometime this afternoon.

Regression

The Big Boy Bed experiment of 2008 may be drawing to a sad and pathetic close. Sam has been sleeping in his pack and play for the past two days/nights and we're contemplating just putting the damn crib back up. Why? Maybe it's because my 26 month old sonny boy has an immensely strong will. You see, even once it's dark and he can no longer read/play/run around, he proceeds to keep himself awake by singing just to fuck with me. Well, maybe that's not exactly why he does it, but he knows that it is our fondest desire to have him close his little eyes, so he keeps them propped open with special devices. Usually he gives up around 9pm. Unfortunately his bowels are also plotting our demise, so he's been waking up around 6 to make a nice fresh poop for his mommy.

This, as you can imagine, has resulted in a not-so-pleasant little boy. A little boy who choked another student in his class at school on Monday. And hit another one in the face. And sat on another, much tinier, one. A little boy who is continually tripping and falling, because he is so very very tired, and now has a big old bruise on his eyebrow. And all of that has created a not-so-pleasant mommy. And Allison. And Daddy. And even Lucy, to some degree, because she is frequently the victim of his toy swiping, cup stealing rage.

Yeah, we're a lot of fun to be around right now. You can imagine how much fun he was yesterday at the polls where we had to wait for 25 minutes with a bunch of nuns.