D-Day... Well, Night

I knew The Day would come, and while many sources promised it would go easily, part of me always doubted just a little... How would Peter transition to sleeping in his own room? We spent our luck cards on the nightweaning, which went uncharacteristically smoothly, so surely we were due for a battle. Apparently, though, Peter is picking his battles these days, and he's reserved his energy for tantrums over broken granola bars and halogen lightbulbs.

He slept his first night in the Big Boy Room as if he'd been doing it all his life. I left him sleepy but awake, and he went to sleep. At 6:00 a.m., I went in and woke him. Since then, that's basically the story. Sometimes he wakes earlier, and I'll hear him talking to his animals in bed, but he stays there. The whole thing has been anticlimatic. Downright boring.

I, on the other hand, am sleeping with the video monitor beside me on the pillow, sensitive to every sound as if listening in on a newborn. I didn't realize what a change this would be for me. I'm still not opposed to Peter's return (there's a toddler bed in the garage waiting to be put together, and it looks like a bench so it won't look too out of place in our room) but I just don't know that he's going to need it.

Only one night did I worry about bedtime battles. Soon after I left him, Peter got out of bed and opened the door. I told him to get back into bed, and he did. Then I heard him get up again, though he didn't open the door. Since I didn't want to turn this into a game, I waited to see what he would do. He "read" some books to himself. Then he picked up his baby, and I watched on the monitor as he undressed him and picked him up and talked to him... and brought him into bed. He giggled with the baby on the pillow beside him, then went to sleep. I couldn't resist taking his picture before going to bed myself: