As soon as we fix one problem in our household, another one tends to crop up. When last I left you we had just transitioned Emma from her cradle in our room to a crib in my office slash guest room. The very next day, you wouldn’t believe who suddenly got it in his head to climb out of his crib.
Yes, that’s right. My seventeen month old son, Henry.
It has been a long time coming. All of the signs were there. Henry has mastered climbing into my glider, his father’s wingback chair, the dining room chairs, even the bed in our room and the guest bed. We’ve had quite a few scares when it comes to these stunts – if you’ll recall, when Henry climbed the guest bed he fell backwards onto the hardwood floor. While he was startled and gave me a heck of a fright, not ten minutes after he was trying to climb right back up on the bed. He is, in a word, fearless.
It was only a matter of time. Henry has been able to rest his arms comfortably on top of the crib for some time now. There would be times when I would go in to get him after a nap and find that he was toeing that line, literally – his toe would be up on the railing, his arms reaching to wrap around the top of his crib but I didn’t worry about it. I knew it would be soon but I kept thinking not yet, not yet. And then it happened. Just like that. The first Sunday after Gordon returned home from Pennsylvania, the first full day of Emma sleeping in her crib, he did it.
Henry had just woken from a nap. I wasn’t quite ready to get him up yet so I let him whine in his crib, as I often do, content that he’s contained sufficiently. Then the whining got… insistent. Higher pitched. Then a little frightened sounding and a tad pained. Sometimes Henry will get his leg stuck because he has turned himself wrong way – instead of going length wise, he’ll get width wise and gets his little legs and feet kicking out. I figured that this was the case and made my way leisurely to his room.
Oh the sight that awaited me. There was my just turned seventeen month old son perched rather precariously on the corner of his crib. Instead of the cherub face and the silently pleading hands I had grown accustomed to when I went to get him from his nap, there was a little round derriere up in the air greeting me. Try to picture it if you can. Henry’s arms were wrapped around the width portion of his crib railing, his knees propped up on the length portion of the crib railing. He was basically catty corner, his face toward his bookshelf so that he couldn’t easily see the door and his butt towards me. It was a sight to behold, let me tell you, and I freaked out.
I started calling for Gordon immediately even as I was rushing over to pry my son off of his unsteady perch. When I explained what had happened, Gordon was at first very impressed. Then he turned his attention toward finding the conversion rails for our convertible crib to turn it into a toddler bed. Only to find out that he couldn’t find the toddler rails for our particular style of crib online anywhere. He then asked me to into it for him during the week and in the meantime, we ignored the situation as best as we could. There was no point in trying to reprimand Henry since he wouldn’t comprehend. We couldn’t explain to him that he might fall, that the fall would hurt, that it was better, safer, for him to remain in his crib. So instead we just decided to monitor the situation.
Great plan, right? Right.
Monday rolls around and I catch him, yet again, trying to climb out of his crib. I put my heart back in its chest, snap a picture for proof with my iPhone, pry him off his perch, and on we go about our normal business. Tuesday morning though… Oh boy. Tuesday morning I’m laying in bed, waking up, when I hear him whine, Emma fuss, and then suddenly – thump. Mom reflexes kicked in because before I knew it I was out of bed and magically standing before his door. I opened it and what sight greets me? My toddler, picking himself and his blanket up off the ground and walking towards me. He’d done it. Just like that, my worst fear realized. My heart plummetted to my toes and has since stayed there. Every time I hear a whine or a thump, I think ‘Oh God, here we go again!’ That very day I got on the phone with the company who makes Henry’s crib to track down the conversion kit necessary to turn his crib into a toddler bed.
Now I realize there’s a lot of different ways to handle this new development and Gordon and I have discussed many of them. We could A) buy a toddler bed and leave the crib intact for Emma’s use. Currently she’s using a drop side crib (with safety measures installed, circa 2010 and my baby cousin) but her mattress is on the lowest setting already and she’s only just now getting good at rolling over. No need to ditch that crib just because it’s not as attractive as Henry’s. Besides, if we get a toddler bed, there would be absolutely no way to contain him. It would be bigger, way bigger, and too big for my little big guy. Even though I’m coming to terms with the fact that he isn’t a baby any more I’m not just there yet. He still needs his crib. In the same vein, we could ditch the whole crib conversion idea and skip right to the twin/full sized bed and just put those plastic railings up but we’re really not ready for him to be in something that big.
Or we could try option C) and just put the crib mattress on the floor. The only problem with this idea? I already know how it will go. Whenever I have to change the sheets on Henry’s crib, I take the mattress out and place it on the floor. Naturally curious, he climbs all over and bounces on it, tosses toys on and off of it, and has a grand old time. It’s just bouncy fun! Right? But it also doesn’t contain him. He has only ever slept in his crib or in the Pack ‘n Play both of which have sides to contain him. I think suddenly finding himself with the freedom to move about his room would be too much. We would have to remove just about everything – and I mean everything – from his room. Otherwise I would come in the next morning to find him passed out amongst the torn up foam tiles that we have in his room and all of his books and toys. We’d have to remove the foam tiles, remove the bookshelves, the books, the toys, and basically leave him with a bare room while we try to explain to my too young son that he has to stay in bed.
No. Not going to happen. To go from being contained in a crib and a room full of things to not being contained but being alone? Too drastic.
It’s with all of this in mind that we’ve settled on D) getting the toddler rails for his crib. When I contacted the company, they informed me that the conversion kit in the style that matches the crib and in the color that matches our crib would not be in until July 18th. I could reserve a set with my credit card and as soon as they arrived, they would be sent from California to Tennessee. The whole process would take about 8-10 business days. Which would put Henry’s toddler rails arriving around the 28th. At first this seemed unacceptable but as the week wore on, the novelty of trying to climb out of our crib seems to have worn off. At nearly two weeks past the point when this all first happened, Henry seems to be content to lay on his back and just whine until I come get him. We’re still going to order the toddler rails and hope they arrive before our munchkin decides to get adventurous again but in the meantime, we will wait and watch. And he’ll still be our little boy for a little bit longer. Maybe the next time we have to revisit this problem, Henry will be a little older and understand a little more so that we can explain that he needs to lay down and stay in his bed, regardless of the fact that he would be able to get out on his own. Maybe the fact that it isn’t all new and still mostly looks like his crib will keep him there. But who knows?
Here’s hoping!
The Plucky Parent 