Tonight has been amusing, and sad, when it came to the kids' bedtime.
First, Ellie went into Marty's room to watch Winne the Pooh instead of watching Big Comfy Couch, as she requested, on her own TV.
Then, Marty demanded to be snuggled and rocked to sleep, per usual. While rocking Marty in the living room, he suddenly got his second wind and squirmed down to run through the house. After a few minutes, I realized that it was awfully quiet back there where the kids' rooms are, and I went to see what was going on.
Ellie had managed to curl up in Marty's toddler bed, which looks like a yellow VW Bug, roof and all, and had gone to sleep. Marty was in Ellie's twin bed with the covers pulled up to his chin! Fortunately, he was still awake.
Husband got Marty out of his sister's bed, and I extracted the soundly sleeping 5.5 year old from her baby brother's bed. I put Ellie in her own bed and tucked her in - still sound asleep.
Marty had a wet diaper, so I took him into his room to change him. He said several times, "bed, bed," and "Pooh! Pooh!" I decided to be cute and tucked him into his bed, not expecting him to stay there (he never has before), and started Winne-the-Pooh over.
I went back to the living room and sat in the chair, waiting for him to come running in. He hadn't shown up by the next commercial break, so I went back to have a looksee. He was asleep! He went to sleep in his own bed, by himself, for the first time ever!
On the one hand, I'm proud that he's such a big boy. On the other hand, I'm sad - Ellie didn't start going to sleep by herself until she was 3.5 years old. I missed rocking my little man tonight. My babies are growing up so fast! But that's why I've never tried to "sleep train" either of them, because I knew that one day they wouldn't want to be rocked any more, and I would never have that joy again. My heart aches, both with pride and longing.
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