Unauthorized Bedtime Wandering

For quite some time (months and months) after Lizzy moved from a crib to a bed, she still hadn't grasped the concept that she could get in and out of bed by herself. We would put her there and she would stay there until we got her out.

It also took her a long time to figure out that she could open the door to her room by herself. We heard friends tell tales of their toddlers climbing out of cribs and opening doors and wandering around outside while parents slept. We looked at our little bed-bound child and smiled with gratitude.

How I miss those days.

Since Lizzy awakened to her God-given bed- and room-escaping ability, she has become very hard to keep in bed, and it takes her forever to fall asleep. Each night she frequently gets out of bed and comes to ask us a question or tell us something or complain that she isn't ready for sleep.

Our recent attempt to curb this behavior has been to take away a toy each time she gets out of bed. This appears to work pretty well, although last night after I had firmly restated the law of toy-removal and left the room, she got out of bed and came out of her room to protest the hard-line stance we have taken with this decree. There should be more flexibility, she demanded (though in different words—something like, "I don't think that's a good idea"). The current wording of the regulation stipulates that to be legal, bed-time wandering must lead the wanderer directly to the bathroom to take care of business—and then directly back.

Lizzy proposed another authorized excursion last night: the reporting of nightmares. If she is scared, she said, she needs to be able to come tell us.

I agreed but insisted that nightmares don't come right after we put her to bed and she'd better get back there now.

For a while there, nightmares were the favored excuse for bed escapes. She would have several "nightmares" each evening and would get out of bed to come tell us about them—often within minutes of us leaving her in her room.

The best reason for getting out of bed, however, came when Lizzy got out of bed one night and, in response to my demand that she return, said, "But I have to tell you something."

"What is it?" I asked, trying to be patient.

"Um, um, um, um.... um, um, um," she said, her brain working hard to come up with something as we stood at the door to her room. "Um, um... I'm tired."

As I laughed and pointed out the irony of her statement, she realized her mistake, smiled, and headed back to bed.

By the way, last night when I removed a toy (Mr. Potato Head) in consequence of her unauthorized wandering, Lizzy said, "That's OK. You can take him." So much for consequences that hurt.