Things went well with Robbie sleeping in his makeshift big boy bed last night.  Until about 3:45 in the morning, when he fell the four inches to the floor and woke me up with his sobs.  I waited for him to go back to sleep for a little while (to be fair, I didn’t know he had “fallen”) and finally went in to check on him.  I found my poor baby face down on the floor, arms stretched above his head.  When I came into the room, he just stood up pathetically and sobbed.

He didn’t want juice.  He didn’t want to be hugged.  He didn’t want a new diaper.  Finally, desperate for some sleep, I grabbed him and laid down on the crib mattress.  Not really comfortable, by the way.  I said, “You must be really sleepy, baby.”  I heard him mutter, “Eep-y, Mamma.  Eep.  Y.”  And then he started snoring.  I figured I was home free and started to untangle myself, and Robbie shot up out of the bed and said, “Mommy’s room.”

So, we went.  And he fell asleep quickly.  Didn’t even fall off the bed.

Of course, tonight was another battle.  He didn’t want to go to sleep.  At all.  Screaming.  Gnashing of teeth.  Until, finally, he understood that he could play in his room until he was tired enough to go to sleep.  Not that I’ve checked upstairs, but it seems pretty quiet.  And he hasn’t ventured out of his room.  At least I hope he hasn’t…