A Bed on the Floor

Over the weekend, the Professor and I made the leap and converted Charlie’s crib into its next phase, the toddler bed. We had been toying with the idea for a while. The Professor was concerned that he would try to climb out. I was less than enthusiastic about making the switch. My theory was that he hadn’t even come close to trying to climb out, so why change things up? I guess I feel that he is growing up so fast. Things are rapidly changing in his life, so why rush things? But, over the past few weeks, I’ve sensed that he has outgrown the crib and I was getting really tired of having to hoist him over the side of that thing. He’s getting so heavy, that picking him up is often accompanied with a few grunts and cracking bones.

So, Saturday, we made the conversion and celebrated with Charlie and his stuffed animals. Charlie was very proud and loved having the ability to get in and out of bed on his own. He even showed off his “new” bed to anyone who came over.

The first night in the bed went well. He was a little confused at first, but he quickly fell asleep and only woke up a couple of times throughout the night. During one of the wake up sessions, he got out of bed and stood in our doorway. About 30 seconds after I had finally fallen back to sleep, the Professor nudged me and pointed to the door. I jumped because I was so startled to see a person standing in the doorway staring at me. My heart puttered for a few seconds because my initial thought was, “there’s a stranger in my house!” But when I realized it was just Charlie, I relaxed a little. It was just so odd to see him standing there in the middle of the night.

Each night thereafter got easier and easier and by the fourth night, he was an old hat at climbing in his bed and sleeping through the night. In the mornings when he wakes up he waits patiently for one of us to get him, sitting upright in his bed with his feet hanging off the side.

One of the side effects of Charlie having his new bed is the new potential freedom he has. All night long he has the ability to roam the house and get into mischief. This, in turn, has caused the Professor and me to worry about what he might get into should he get up in the night and decide to meander around the house. Did we leave the garbage can out where he can access the last dollops of yogurt in the container we threw away three days ago? Is there a large chef’s knife resting precariously on the edge of the counter? Did we lock the doors? Did we make sure to close up the items in the bathroom including the lid to the toilet? All of these possibilities gave the Professor a few nightmares, so we have implemented a plan of doing a quick run-through of the house before heading off to bed.

Another mishap we planned for was the possibility that he might fall out of his bed. Like many kids, Charlie is a squirmy sleeper, and we knew it was only a matter of time before he rolled right off the edge. We decided to put an old down comforter on the floor below the bed to serve as a cushion in case he falls.

Last night, around 1:30 a.m., the Professor and I woke with a jolt to screams and cries coming from Charlie’s room. The Professor ran into his room and I followed to find him comforting Charlie, who lay sprawled out on the floor. Poor guy. He fell out of his bed. The Professor comforted him a bit and I went back to bed. The Professor spent a little time soothing him, put him back in his bed, and returned to bed. But Charlie just kept crying. And this wasn’t just a whimper indicating that he did not want to go back to bed. It was a pained cry. I decided to go check things out just to be sure. I found him sitting up on his bed, hugging Perry the polar bear and his blue blanket, Bette (as in bet), crying for his mama. I leaned down to give him some comfort and noticed something smudgy on his chin. After further investigation with bleary sleepy eyes in the dim light, I realized it was blood. I turned on the lamp and noticed that Charlie’s lip was the size of a marble; it was bleeding a little and it had a rather large gash in it. I guess he bit it during his fall. He just sat there looking pitiful, all the while licking his lip. It must have felt funny having a fat lip for the first time ever. His sweet little sad eyes convinced me to let him sleep in our bed for the remainder of the night. Big mistake. None of us got any sleep, so in addition to a fat lip, Charlie also has the grumples (make that three of us with the grumples). I guess Charlie won’t be smooching on any of his classmates today.