We tucked her in her crib around 7:00 in the evening, praying that she would quickly drift off to sleepitown. We wanted to spend some much needed grown up time together watching TV and chatting about our day. We softly closed the door behind us and tip toed silently back to the living room for our own quaint party.
Tap, tap, tap. The tiny knock on the bedroom door told us that, once again, the little Roderick had climbed out of her crib. She had not yet mastered the art of turning door knobs. Her only means of quiet communication was to knock on her door hoping that we would release her from her prison and the prospect of going to sleep. Not gonna happen. We walked to her door and said firmly "Go to sleep." She didn't put up a fight, just a frustrated sigh.
After we turned off lights we went to check on our little angel and to place her back in her tiny bed. We tried to open her bedroom door. Something was blocking it. We gently kept pushing it open, little by little, so as not to disturb the slumbering 13 month old wedged behind it. We finally achieved our goal, picked her up and put her back in her familiar crib. We kissed her soft cheek knowing she would sleep the night away safe, warm and comfy.
We knew that Addison would never stay in that crib now that she so aptly could climb out, so we had no choice but to move her to a big girl bed at the ripe old age of, like I said, 13 months. She never fell out of the big girl bed. The girl has always had skills.
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