the switch

Well … it’s done.

After much debate, Brian and I decided to convert Ammon’s crib to a toddler bed. We were planning to do this before we found out we were moving – and then, of course, chose to wait until we were settled in our new home.

For a while now, Ammon has been in the middle of that he-could-stay-he-could-go phase. I – of course – have lost sleep about moving him to a toddler bed. It’s a thought that scared me a lot. He is so small – and such an incredibly rough sleeper. Seriously. You would have to see it to believe it. I wondered if he would ever even stay in his bed, too. I never really worried about nighttime; however, naptime had me nervous. And then, of course, there’s the whole loss of confinement. I – when I’m at the end of my rope – have been known to depend on the gridiron bars of that crib. Not out of neglect – but desperation. Most importantly, though, was the knowledge that this act would officially catapult my baby into toddlerhood. Something that makes me sad. And again … scares me just a bit.

But – I was reminded again that my baby boy must grow up. And will grow up despite my best efforts. So … Sunday was the day. Brian converted the crib – removing the front panel and adding on that little, tiny guard rail. Ammon helped him out, naturally … and was so proud of his new big boy bed. To quote him, “Wow … neat!”

Within seconds, he had arranged all of his buddies, blankets and pillows … and had mastered the art of climbing in and out. He also attempted – only once, because I was eyeing him very carefully – to climb onto the guard rail and jump off.

The switch was made after his afternoon nap that day – so his first rendezvous with his new bed was that night. When we put him to bed … he was giddy with excitement. This new bed was proof to him that he was r.e.a.l big. We had taken every precaution – that we could think of – to keep him from inadvertently falling out. We barricaded the opening. We layered blankets and quilts on the floor, just in case. We mentioned it in our family prayer that night. You name it, we did it.

And … he stayed put. For a couple of hours, anyway.

To explain the sound that Brian and I heard from the living room, I can only say that it was like a gunshot. We’re talking loud. Clearly, he had landed directly on the hardwood floor – and not on the blankets that we laid out for a good two feet around his bed. Brian and I ran right in there – but, in that short minute, there was already a good ole' knot on Ammon’s forehead. It looked like someone had cut a golf ball in half, painted it bright purple, and glued it to his forehead. And – obviously – he wasn’t happy.

Ammon already had some painkillers in his system, luckily. He screamed like he has never screamed before. He was clearly scared out of his wits – he had been asleep when he hit the floor. Finally, he shrieked for juice. I got him some ice water, and he slowly started to calm down. Brian sat down with him in my big chair and I put together an ice pack. After about 30 minutes of ice – and a blessing from his daddy – the swelling in Ammon’s head started to go down. But the kaleidoscope of colors on his forehead were still ever present.

While they were rocking, I went into Ammon’s room to assess the situation. I tried to recreate what had happened – figuring out that he had somehow rolled completely over the guard rail and flown about three feet away from his bed, landing upside down on his forehead. I thought through all of this and made a couple of changes to his bedding that I thought had caused the problem. Of course, this wasn’t going to stop Ammon’s wild sleeping habits – he is just going to have to learn his limitations, I guess.

We put him back to bed after a while. He looked up through those impossibly long eye lashes of his and gave us a look that clearly said, “This is all your fault.” Of course, changing his bed had been our idea. As keen as Ammon had been about the whole affair, I’m sure that he now thinks that this big bed stuff isn’t so great after all. But – despite whatever was going on is his beat-up head – he slept the rest of the night without a problem. This is his knot and bruise the day after, eventhough the photo doesn't do it justice:


Since this episode, Ammon hasn’t fallen out of his bed again. He stayed in his bed for both of his naps yesterday and slept all night. Today – hasn’t been the same story. After moaning at his baby-gate for about 2 hours, this is what I found:

All in all – even with the bumps and bruises – this has been good for Ammon. I’ve noticed some changes in him that are just grand. He is exhibiting a desire to be a little more self-sufficient. He is showing us that he can handle these changes. Of course, there have been some behavioral adjustments that haven’t been so groovy, but … we’ll take what we can get.

In fact – this has been a good experience for us. We have proven to ourselves that we can handle these ‘growing up changes’. These obligatory developments that we must face sooner or later. This experience has shown us – has shown me – that maybe we can handle the other changes that loom on our horizon. Like potty training.

A quote from Teeny Little Super Guy – of old school Sesame Street fame – comes to my mind: “It isn’t too scary. Just … scary enough."