Why You Gotta Be So Mean?

I have a feeling if I took the time to browse the archives of The Elser 411 I would find entries related to our bedtime battles with Jackson dating back years.  In fact, I'm certain of it.  Yet here we are, just 2 months shy of his 4th birthday, and the battle continues.

In fact, this week, it reached epic proportions.

I'll gloss over the history, because I'm pretty sure I've shared it here before, but the gist is: Jackson wakes up sometime in the middle of the night and sneaks (quite literally, as we almost never hear him) into our bedroom where he sets up camp - I'm talking blanket, pillow, stuffed animal and cup of water - somewhere on the floor and proceeds to spend the rest of the night.  More often than not we wake up to find him in the doorway, beside the bed or at the foot of the bed.  Sound asleep.

We've gone around and around on this one. 

On the one hand, he seems to sleep fine that way.  And he doesn't wake us up - which means we're also sleeping fine.  If he's more comfortable being "by you guys" then what difference does it really make?  Eventually he'll realize his bed is a much more comfortable option and stay put, right? 

On the other hand, it drives us crazy.  We can't step out of bed without the fear of squishing our child.  And surely he would be more well-rested without these middle-of-the-night trips across the hall.  We're over it.  If for no other reason than it's time to break a bad habit.

And we've tried everything.

We started with positive reinforcement.  He would earn smiley faces on his chore board that resulted in a "special treat", trips to the golf course, stops at Daddy's shop on the way to school and even Dunkin' Donuts for breakfast.  It might work once or twice and then it's right back to sleeping on the floor.

Then we shifted to negative reinforcement.  A night spent outside of his room meant a toy was taken away.  We didn't mess around either - we went for the big guns.  Like Buzz Lightyear, the Darth Vader sword from Gram and a Spiderman Motorcycle.  He was always sad, but never sad enough to stay in bed more than once or twice in order to earn the toys back. 

In fact, very quickly it started to feel like Jack was manipulating us.  On occasion, he would lobby for a particular treat "if I stay in my bed tonight".  Or he would ask what toy was on the table should we find him in our room - presumably so he could decide whether or not the toy was worth giving up for a few days.  It was absolutely maddening. 

Short of locking him in his room at night (which neither of us are particularly prepared to do) we are stumped.

Then a friend suggested instead of just putting a toy out of reach for a while, we should actually throw it away.  In front of Jack.  To be rescued later by us of course, but perhaps this more permanent consequence (as far as Jack knew) would leave a bit more of an impression.

We decided to give it a try.  And, a bit regrettably, we went for the jugular.  Mickey Mouse.

Monday night we told Jackson if he didn't stay in his room, Mickey Mouse would be going in the trash can.  Jack is very aware that Tuesday is trash day at our house so he quickly realized that Mickey would not only be in the trash can, but at the landfill, should he not stay in his room.

It worked.

Drew & I were feeling pretty good about our victory and repeated the scenario on Tuesday night. 

Only this time it didn't work.

We woke up to find Jack asleep at the side of our bed.  And within seconds we both realized that we were going to have to "throw away" Mickey Mouse.  My heart absolutely sunk.  This was going to be ugly.  But there was no question that we had to follow through.  Empty threats do not fly in our house and there was no way we could go back on our word.

I grabbed a clean trash bag, Drew dropped Mickey in the bag and I told him he should probably put it in the back of his truck and drop it off at the landfill on his way to work.  For one, we now had a whole week until trash day and I knew Jack would just dump out every trash can in the house until he rescued the mouse or found a way out of this mess.  We needed to get this over with and fast.  Also, it gave Drew an opportunity to stash Mickey somewhere safe.

Oh, it was absolutely brutal.  I'm talking major tears.  And not the "throwing a tantrum" tears, but the actual "my heart is broken" tears.  There was even a hand print on his bedroom window as he reached out calling for Mickey as Drew drove away with the trash bag visible in the bed of the truck. 

I felt like the absolute meanest person in the world.  Drew texted me a couple of hours later and confirmed that he too was feeling terrible.

Fortunately, Jack recovered fairly quickly and by the time we got to school he was fine again.

I think I'm still a little scarred.

I took advantage of our 20 minute drive to school that morning and talked with Jack all the way there about why it is important for him to get a good night sleep in his own room.  We talked about taking care of your body and needing sleep to help process the day's activities and give your bones and muscles a chance to grow.  I also reiterated that if he ever wakes up in the night and needs something (potty, drink, covers, or even just a kiss) that he can always come and wake us up and we will be there for him.  I explained that he doesn't need to sneak into our room any more.  I think it was a good conversation.

At bedtime last night, we went through our usual routine and as I was turning out the lights and getting ready to snuggle with him for a bit Jack asked if we were going to take Pluto to the landfill this time.  I said no.  That, in fact, we weren't taking any toys away tonight.  But that he was going to stay in his room because it was the right thing to do.  I reminded him of our conversation on the way to school and told him to wake me up if he needed anything.

At 6:15 this morning, after Drew & I had pushed snooze on the alarm a time or two, Jackson tapped my shoulder and asked me if I would come in his room and lay with him.  He made it all night.  I told him it was morning already but that he could snuggle in our bed for a couple of minutes before it was time to shower and get ready for the day.  He beamed.

Who's to say what tonight will bring...or the next few days, weeks and months.  I have absolutely no doubt that we haven't fought the last of this battle.  And I have no idea what methods we'll employ next.  But I'm hoping and praying that little by little we can break this habit and perhaps one day soon Mickey can be resurrected.

For my sake as much as Jack's.  Because, let me tell you, in my whole life I've never felt so mean!

In our circle of friends bedtime seems to be something everyone has struggled with at some point.  What do you guys think?  Are we missing something obvious?  Were we too mean...or not mean enough?  Any methods that have worked for you?  I already told Drew if we ever get a chance to parent another child we're doing bedtime differently from day 1!