Sleepless in Vancouver

Okay.

Last night was NOT the raging success I had hoped for.

First of all, setting up the bed proved to be all kinds of problems, as Zoey's room suddenly seemed like it was only roughly larger than a prison cell--all the furniture needed to be rearranged in order to make room for the big girl bed. (Another thing I'm looking forward to in our new house? BIGGER BEDROOMS.) Of course, the initial set-up did not begin until after 7 p.m. which TOTALLY wound Zoey up instead of helping her settle in for the night...Daddy is moving furniture! Installing a new trampoline for me to play on! Hooray! Also, the smell? From the residual paint fumes? Horrible. I couldn't tell if my headache was coming from trying to cram too much furniture in to a space that is much too small, or if it was a side effect of all the brain cells the paint fumes were killing.

The second problem proved to be the SIZE of the bed frame, and the mattress. Which is to say, the mattress looks like it's about 6 inches smaller than it needs to be to fit correctly on the frame. And after nearly two years of reading Parents magazine and hearing lectures from my pediatrician on the importance of having a mattress fit squarely in a crib/bed frame, I was convinced that if the paint fumes didn't kill our child, she would surely fall between the wall and the mattress and suffocate.

Needless to say, it was well past 8:00 by the time I had crammed the mattress WAY against the wall, covered the opposite side of the bed frame with an old quilt (Death Trap #3: rolling from the mattress, smacking herself against the exposed metal frame, and tumbling to the hardwood floor beneath), and opened both windows in the bedroom in an attempt to air out the fumes.

By 9:00, Zoey was bathed and seemed quite content to sit on her bed flipping through her books. Excellent! We were well on our way to a good night's sleep!

Until roughly 9:15, when I turned out the light and left the room.

Much screaming and crying ensued, as my husband shot me pointed looks from the couch which obviously said he knew this was going to happen. Pffft. I returned to our daughter's room to console her. (I'd like to point out that, while she cried and seemed terrified of her new digs, she did NOT get out of the bed and come to find us. Small victories.) I layed down with her for awhile. We listened through the open windows as the kids next door apparently played outside. (Seriously? 10:00 at night, playing outside, LITTLE kids? Disturbing.) I tucked her in again. More tears. What to do? Let her cry it out, on the first night? Lay with her until she dropped off to sleep?

I had to buy some time. So I let her get up and have a snack.

I know.

Finally, at 10:47, Zoey and Bryan were BOTH fast asleep in her bed. I woke Bryan up and sent him downstairs, while I made myself comfy in the extra bedroom right next to Zoey's. I figured that, if the night didn't go well, I might as well be close by.

As I tucked her in, it struck me just how TINY she looked, sleeping in her big girl bed.

I guess the actual getting to sleep was the problem, because she slept until 6:15 this morning. I am not counting this as a victory, as 7 1/2 hours of sleep does NOT a happy toddler make. Let's just say it will be an early nap time today. For both of us.