Wednesday, January 20, 2010

Floor or Bed? Which will win?

She was crying, screaming, screeching and hollering 'Mommy'. It wasn't an unfamiliar gig, one that is indicative of a poopy diaper. We had placed Kaitlyn down for quiet time in hopes that she would actually get some shut eye. Typically she plays in her crib for a good hour before the silence of sleep follows. It's a blessed time of day. Occasionally she lets out this cry-scream after playing for sometime which translates into an obvious call for a diaper change as the stench becomes quite alarming. So, yesterday, when I heard the crying, screaming, screeching and hollering 'Mommy', I figured it was for the same drill. I was comfortable with the idea that I'd eventually get up to change her diaper, but by no means was I in a rush...afterall, this quiet time is really my only respite in my day to regroup and quite possibly nap myself. Dylan was in my arms as we approached her room. No diaper smell. I opened the door...
Miss Kaitlyn Marie was stuck straddling her crib railing. As if riding a horse she was arched forward holding on for the ride of her life. She was not scared only stuck. Once I got her she was headed for the door. My tomboy in the works is a real dare devil.
I wasted no time. Last night we converted her crib to a transition bed, the kind that still utilizes the crib mattress. She eventually slept after she explored everything on her dresser. When Steve went in the room to soothe her-as she was clearly distraught-he found the carpet and her covered in baby powder and the hand sanitizer in her hand. Surely if we waited any longer the hand sanitizer would be found as paint upon the wall and quite possibly her dessert.
Naptime today was a new story. When the silence hit I checked on her and found her smack center of her room, fast asleep ontop of a few books and half of a blanket. I picked her up and placed her in her bed hoping that when she does wake up, she feels its comfort. Night two and it's 9:42pm. Kaitlyn was tucked into bed around 9pm and for the past 40 minutes has been haggling me at the gate of her doorway. 'Mommy, I love you,' she hollers out. She distracts herself with books and toys and then hollers out again. When I come to the doorway, she goes right to her bed and crawls in. Not the last time; she went right to her bed but slowly started walking back toward me in her classic mischevious fashion, staring at me every step. I asked her if she was going to sleep on the floor. This stinker promptly buckled her knees and fell to the floor, lying on it as if she was asleep. She is a true comedian.

At this point I have walked away. She's not crying. That's the good sign. My hope is that she will wear herself out and by 10pm the true silence will hit. Only curiosity, will she be in her bed or on the floor?