The Bed Stories: A Juxtaposition of Fairytale and Mystery

Once upon a time the boys left their cribs for beds. I was nervous. I had visions of being up all night flattening them to their beds while at the same time prying toys from their sweaty, tired fists. In those visions there was always a soundtrack of deafening heavy metal and fingernails on chalkboards and cat fights. They also looked cartoonish, more like an angry Dobby the House Elf (R.I.P.) than little boys.  Needless to say, it was with great trepidation that I said farewell to the cribs that have served us so well the past 27 months. Brian was much more confident than I was.

I remember putting these up...long, long ago in a land far away

Cal was a little sentimental as Brian took his crib apart, but as soon as he could bounce on the new mattresses he was sold. We bought one top bunk mattress, which is basically a futon mattress (no bounces!), and a regular mattress. We are using them on the floor for now, but as soon as we decide the boys are ready for bunk beds we will be all set to plop them in place. They picked out their sheets and pillows with Daddy. Sports for Clark and transportation for Cal. (wheels go ‘round and ‘round like ceiling fans!)

This is bouncier than the crib mattress!

I was sure they’d have trouble getting up and running around, possibly climbing large pieces of furniture and playing trains or something, but about an hour after we put them to bed the first night we peeked in on them and they were like little angels—still under the covers we put on them. They hadn’t moved at all! Honestly, I was shocked and exceedingly happy. (insert montage with previous vision) It has been that way every night since. In the mornings they now wake up about an hour before they used to and when we go into their bedroom they are usually sharing a mattress and reading stories, or over by the bookshelf picking out more stories.

A whole new world unfolds

Or, like this morning, thumping their feet loudly on the wall so that I catapulted out of bed to hopefully save the neighbor below us from waking up early to loud foot booms above her. No word yet, so I’m hoping her sleep was spared. Anyway, they are clearly rockin’ the new bedtime. It’s a fairytale.

Nap time, on the other hand, is a different story—more like a mystery or horror than a fairytale. They start off great—all snuggled in their chosen blankies with their stuffed comfort objects and a stack of books by each of their heads. Before I can even begin to load the dishwasher I hear them up, playing with the doorstop they’ve been fond of since they started crawling, choo-chooing the trains, and occasionally attacking and conquering the other boy’s bed, followed by the loud whoops of victory and the horrific wailing of defeat. 

The mysterious sleepers

So I separate them. I hate to give up our bedroom to a sleeping boy, but I would hate even more to give up nap time completely. At first it was nerve-racking listening to the silence in our bedroom after I put Clark in there by himself. I was hoping he wasn’t surfing the web or climbing the blinds or flinging laundry from our drawers all over the room. Here I go again with the visions… in my mind Clark looked like that ETrade baby from the commercials, working on his stock portfolio at a computer. I don’t know what it will take for them to finally take naps in the same room. It’s a mystery.