Parenting 101 - Solutions for a Modern Mom

Last year when discovering I was pregnant, in addition to the “what the hell did I just do” there was the one other thought - Owen needs to get out of that crib. Taking the initiative early, I bought and assembled a toddler bed and after three weeks of give and take Owen was fine. He loved his bed, I had a crib for Maggie, and all was golden in the world.

As time wore on, it occurred to John and me that Owen never got out of his toddler bed. In the morning he would call for us, and at night, even if he was upset, he would never get out of the bed. For in his mind, that bed was a crib, a crib with invisible bars. We heard stories of other parents of toddlers fighting to keep their child in their bed to no avail but we just chalked it up to tackling the bed issue at an early age. Even my mother could not believe it.

This Tuesday, in a phrase my father likes to use, the dawn finally broke on Marblehead. Seems our son came to the realization that he could in fact get out of bed, and nothing was holding him back. So after John finished his stories, instead of crying in protest. He got up, opened the door and walked out of his room. Go back to bed Owen. “No.” “Owen it is bedtime. “No.” John and I looked at each other in horror. It has come to pass. As John lay in Owen’s room waiting for him to sleep, I frantically googled strategies to keep your toddler into bed. The experts recommend that you state just once to your toddler that “It is bed time. You must stay in bed and go to sleep.” Each following time, you are not to talk, not to make eye contact and continue to lead your child back into their room and back into bed until finally they will succumb. Flash to that evening at 12:30 a.m. when Owen awakes and exits his room. John does as is instructed for 30 minutes. I then join the party for another 30 minutes until finally I put him in the crib since he still is unable to climb out of it. As a side note, to the makers of the Bratt Décor Dick Crib, I love you. I adore my son, but he is of the stubborn lot, the Irish in him flaring. Although I suspect this shall be an excellent quality for his future, it makes his toddlerhood all the more difficult.

The following day I asked some friends about their son’s forays with getting up to be greeted with the following “Congratulations, at least we know that Owen is not stupid, but nothing has worked for us.” Back to Google, where it basically the same going back and forth until the child finally succumbs. And since “Ridiculous Stubborn Toddler of an Insanely Stubborn Mother Gets Out of Bed, Needs To Stay There” did not elicit any results, I went back to the tried and true, denial. I mentioned to John three times that day, “Well, maybe he won’t even get out of bed tonight.” John took pity on me with a “Suuurrrrreeeee he will.”

That evening as Maggie slept, and Owen’s last story was told, I crossed my fingers. But as John left his room, so did Owen. We took him back to his bed, tucked him in and said “Owen close your eyes and listen to music. Go to sleep. It is night time. You have to stay in bed.” But Stubbowen was having none of that. I brought him in his room, he exited. I brought him back, he got out again. I brought him back and then I held the door shut. And what do you know, after a screaming, kicking an almost rabid meltdown, he returned to his bed. FOR THE ENTIRE NIGHT. Yesterday, the holding of the door lasted 30 seconds. Tonight, who knows? I do know that when dealing with a manipulative stubborn toddler, the best remedy is to get down and dirty on his level. Because it works, and I did not have to waste who knows how many hours of my life playing this back and forth no talk, no eye contact nonsense guide to parenting. I held the door shut. And it may not win me Mommy of the Year, but I slept. Well I might add.