switching rooms

We switched rooms with Ivar this week.  I was so excited to move into the bigger room. So happy at the thought of having a closet in my room, a reading chair, creating a little haven where I might find some quiet. 

Well, it was a nice thought. But it didn't work...at all. Ivar's new room is the only access to Elsie's room. So when Elsie woke up each morning, she woke her brother too. Who happens to be very crabby if he doesn't wake up on his own. And naps were terrible too. Ivar goes down before Elsie for the afternoon nap. So I had trouble sneaking Elsie into her crib without waking Ivar. 

After five nights of miserable sleep, Rory announced that we would be switching rooms again. It was the right thing to do. Our kids are good sleepers, and this just wasn't worth it. So we took our queen bed apart again, moved the mattresses back through the doorways, lifted the crib through both doors, switched the dressers, brought all the toys back to the big room and switched all the wall art again. 

I have a feeling we won't be switching rooms for a long, long time.

*And yes, that is Ivar's crib. The boy hasn't tried getting out yet, and based on stories from other parents of kids not staying in their beds, we decided to keep Ivar in his crib until he's 17. 

...Or until he actually attempts to get out.

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