Well, That Was Short-Lived

I spoke too soon. Fin slept in his big boy bed for five nights, then decided he was done.

Of those five nights, I slept with him for the entire night one time. Three of the other nights he had nightmares that had him crying and flailing in his sleep and I had to go rub his head and back to help him settle down again (even though he never actually woke up). Two of the nights I ended up crawling into his bed for the last hour or so of the early morning sleep so he wouldn't wake up alone.

One of the mornings he woke up alone in his bed and was ANGRY and betrayed to be alone despite the fact that we were in our bed only a few feet away and he often wakes up alone in our bed in the mornings with no anger or frustration.

The fifth night, about 5 am (his usual nightmare time), I heard a whimper and thrashing about, but no crying. I sat up in bed, trying to determine whether he needed me to help soothe him back to sleep or if he was just tossing and turning. After a moment, I heard him slide out of bed.

He came into our room looking very sad with him arms held up for a giant hug. I held him close and asked if he wanted me to come lay down in his bed with him again and he said, "No. I want to sleep here."

I told him how brave he was for coming to find us when he woke up instead of crying or yelling for us and made room for him in our bed again. I hoped this was a step in the right direction for the transition to the big boy bed.

That night, as bedtime approached, we asked if he was ready to head over to his bed after stories and he replied, "No, I already slept there five nights. I'm going to sleep here now."

And he's been back in our bed every night since. Any time we mention sleeping in his room again, he reminds us that he's already done it five times. Apparently that's enough.

I wonder when he'll be ready to try again. In the meantime, he's still a sweet, cuddly sleeper and I don't mind him still being in our bed.