My son is 2 1/2 and he started sleeping in a bed a few nights ago. I thought the first two nights went well… I had to threaten that I would shut his door and take away some of his favorite bedtime loveys, but after only a few attempts at escaping his room, he finally got into his bed and fell asleep. Last night he made up for those relatively good nights and almost broke me.

I put my son in his cool new race car bed at 8:45pm. I gave him a bath first, thinking it might help tire him out—since my kids normally get their baths in the morning. I read him and my daughter three books (they normally only get two) and then it began. I kissed him goodnight and told him he was not to come out of his room—that if he needed something he should call for mommy and daddy and we would come to him. I asked him if he understood and he said yes. Then he asked for daddy. I happily went to down to tell my husband that he was wanted… thinking maybe I would get out of being the primary enforcer. Think again! My husband went up to see what our son wanted and he was completely out of his league. To be fair, his work hours have been crazy, he was tired, and he didn’t bring his “A” game.

As I started eating my dinner I heard a lot of laughing (from my son) and the pitter-patter of his little feet running circles around my husband. I went back up after ten minutes to find my husband completely defeated. He was in the process of putting our son in his bed for about the fifth time and saying “Do you want me to bring your crib back? If you get out of your bed again I am going to consider getting your crib back.” To my husband’s credit, he is cautious about saying anything in definitive terms to the kids, so that he always has a way out. My son got back in his bed and it looked like this threat might work. So, I stayed just outside his room while my husband went down to eat. Within 25 seconds my son got out of his bed and upon seeing me by his doorway started singing “get my crib, get my crib, daddy’s going to get my crib.” As you might imagine, his father was not about to go get his crib, nor did my little boy really want it back; this was all a game to him. We put him in the bed and he climbs out… ahhh the freedom he must feel.

I knew at this point that I had to go one on one with him. This was a test of wills. I picked him up and put him in bed and told him he needed to stay there. And just as I hunker down and prepare for battle, my mother comes walking into his darkened room. I was 80% annoyed by her interfering with my parenting and 20% happy to watch her attempt (and ultimately fail) to get him to stay in bed. And if, in fact, she had succeeded, I could thank her move on to whatever came next! I went down to finish dinner and left the two of them alone.

Well, grandma was no match for my boy. My mother came down 20 minutes later to tell me my son was crazy (said in a most loving way) and she couldn’t get him to stay in his room, even when she sat in there with him!

Back upstairs, with a full belly, I started taking things out of his room. His large white teddy bear, his little Yankee bear blanket, his rocking horse, his stuffed toy named Spot… none of it mattered. Even when I took away what I thought would make him completely lose it, his puppy blanket, he laughed in my face. As I sat next to his bed, trying to reason with him and/or threaten him, he was too busy playing with the shadows on the wall from his night-light to notice me. He was making his hand into a mouth and having its shadow eat the shadow his foot was making. He wasn’t even listening to me! I was outraged—and trying not to laugh all at the same time—because if he saw even the slightest of grins on my face, I would have lost all control!

Next the night-light came out and I shut his door. He freaked out and wanted the door opened so I made him promise he would stay in his bed. He promised and then as soon as he didn’t see me in the doorway he came running out with the biggest smirk on his face. This was the best game he’s ever played… and he was winning! So, in his room he went and I shut the door. But like an idiot I had to stand there holding the door knob so he couldn’t open it up (we have lever knobs and there is no real child lock for them). He yelled and screamed and then went away and played with his cars. Then he came back to the door knob and tried again, yelling at me to let him out… but I had a tight hold. This went on for 20 minutes. Finally… there was silence. I let go of the door knob, went into my room, and passed out next to my husband. It was 10:45pm.

I battled with a 2 1/2 year old and am proud to say that I won. I am hoping tonight will be a little easier…

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