true story

So lately bedtime has been challenging.  And we have never ever had bedtime problems.  From the beginning both boys have gone to bed very easily, they loved their rooms and their cribs.  But the past few weeks we have struggled.  Especially with Beckett. As soon as we walk into the bedroom he begins saying, "I don't want to go to bed."  We continue on with our same routine, but as soon as the lights are turned out and the door is closed, he begins to scream.  At the top of his lungs.  Begging me to come back or to hold his hand or to rub his back.  (Which is kind of funny because I've never rubbed his back;)) So we have tried everything.  And it's getting old.  We are all tired.  Especially Beckett.  Because once he falls asleep, he doesn't sleep soundly.  We are now  practicing a bit of tough love.  As in letting him cry it out, within reason.  Last night, he was screaming.  I waited a bit and it died down to a whimper.  I thought we were home free.  Then he started screaming again.  Just as soon as I got up to check on him....it died down to a whimper.  This went on for about twenty minutes.  Ok...maybe twenty five.  I finally went up.  At this point I was so angry, frustrated, and tired.  I open the door to the nursery, ready to unleash my anger, when I see Beckett sitting in a slumped position against the rails of the crib.  I walk over to him and he is whimpering..."my arm, my arm is stuck."  Yep, it was stuck in the slats of the crib.  And he couldn't move.  After picking him up and apologizing profusely for not coming sooner, I rocked him to sleep. And decided that I certainly should get the mom of the year award :(