Owen does his own stunts

Last night, in the midst of a particularly contentious bedtime, Kerry heard a loud thump. On returning to Owen's bedroom, she found him lying on the floor, having hurled himself out of the crib. The fall apparently knocked the fuss out of the Young Gentleman, as the rest of bedtime went well, and a peaceful night followed.

Peaceful, but short. At 0540, we heard Owen's door open and a paci-muffled voice ask, "Mommy?" (This escape from the crib was thumpless, thanks to the mat of body pillows Kerry had made on the floor next to the crib.)

So Owen's crib days are over. He helped me disassemble the crib enough to get it out of his room and into the nursery next door, and he's now having his first nap on the mattress on the floor. Hopefully, anyway. I'm not hearing a lot of activity from upstairs, but Dr. T is still spinning smooth sounds. Actually, I'm more confident about naptime, as he generally calls for it himself. Bedtime will be more challenging, as it's been hit-and-miss on his wanting to go to sleep. Now that he can actually run around in his room... Kerry removed the most interesting or destroyable items, but I'm still expecting a stretch of long evenings.

I feel a little bad about the timing, as two weeks ago, Dad was here to help us, with his big truck, pick out and bring home a crib for D2. Luckily, as it turns out, none was available, so we only ordered one (versus buying, bringing home and assembling one), but we still spent the majority of a day driving all over Maryland looking, for nought, as it happens. Sorry, Dad. But at least, unlike the dresser from Ikea, we won't have to go back (twice) to replace a missing part.