Wow.

***Grammar disclaimer: I have never understood the rule about using laying vs. lying in the English language. And I don't really care. So, if you do, don't read this post.***

I am sitting at the computer (obviously). Sam is in his room. Going to sleep. Without my laying next to him. Alone. (Well, not really alone. He does have somewhere around 37 stuffed animals within arms reach.)

Needless to say, it's a big day at our house.

A little background for those of you not up to speed on the sleeping situation around here....

At 18 months old, Sam climbed out of his crib. I called Joe at work and told him to buy a bed on the way home for the boy, because in the 10 minutes since he had figured out how to scale the sides, he had climbed in and out about 7 times just for fun.

We had such a good thing going until then. I'd feed him a bottle, he'd fall asleep near the end, I'd place him in his crib asleep, and bedtime was done. (I know, it wasn't really a good thing since the pre-bed bottle was rotting his teeth, but at least it was a good thing in the sleep department.)

But after the crib left the room, so did my ability to put him to sleep with a bottle. Self-weaned in one night. (Much to my mother's delight!)

However, being the active, mischievious toddler he was, we didn't feel comfortable leaving him alone in his room to fall asleep. There was a dresser to climb, a chair to "surf" on, and a bed to launch himself off of. And so we started sitting in there until he fell asleep. (Actually, sitting...then putting him back in bed...then sitting...then putting him back in bed....etc...)

Joe seemed to be able to put him to bed with the least number of attempts to get out, so for the next six months, bedtime was a wonderful time of night for me. Kiss. Hug. See ya when he falls asleep, Joe.

And then we moved. Or rather, Joe moved and Sam and I stayed until the house closed.

And I was one weak Mama.

I much preferred laying listening to Sam babble off to dreamland to sitting in the chair feeling my blood pressure rise as I replaced the kid in bed no less than 17 times before he would cry himself to sleep.

And so I have been laying there for the last 18 months. Not that it's all bad - I actually enjoy some of our conversations as we lay there - but it does get a bit tedious from time to time. And it gets a bit complicated if I am not there to do it.

A few months ago, I broached the subject with Sam. I had set a goal of independence by his 4th birthday and thought I'd better get started priming the pump.

"You know, someday you are going to go to bed all by yourself."
"Someday?"
"Yeah - when you are 4 you won't need me anymore."
"I need you."
"Yeah - but you'll be ready when you are 4. Maybe even before then. If you think you're ready, you can just tell me."
"I won't tell you. "

So I dropped it. We had just managed to break him of thinking he needed me to lay with him if he happened to wake up in the middle of the night, too, and I didn't want to push it. We were in a nice routine of sleeping from 8pm-6am in his bed and then joining me in my bed for the last couple hours after Joe went to work, and I wasn't going to mess that that.

Then a couple nights ago he meandered into our room at 3:30 and wanted to climb in with us.

No way. Back to your bed, kiddo.

And we were awakened again 20 minutes later.

See ya.

And 20 minutes later.

At which point I told him he could come in our room, but he had to sleep on the floor.

I thought he'd turn me down. What person would choose a hard floor over a nice comfy bed?

Sam.

Then last night I reminded him that if he slept all night in his own room by himself he could have a piece of candy in the morning. (Visit this post to see how that got started.)

His response: "I'm full. I don't need candy. I like the floor. It's fun!"

And he made his grand entrance for his spot in our room on the floor around 11.

Now I had visions of not only having to lay with him to get him to sleep, but having him end up on our floor every night as well.

But then tonight Joe had the brilliant idea (and I am not being sarcastic) of suggesting that since he liked the floor so much, he could sleep on the floor in his own room.

Sam actually said yes.

And then my handsome, wonderful, smart, amazing husband threw in "...and you could go to sleep all by yourself."

I waited for the "I need Mommy" or "No thank you," but they never came.

So we went with it.

Here he is, all excited about sleeping on the floor, all by himself. I was a bit skeptical about how long it would last. Or if tears would be involved.

I read him books, we said our prayers, I kissed him goodnight......

...and left the room.

This is what I found when I went back upstairs 30 minutes later.

I.
CAN.
NOT.
BELIEVE.
IT.