Movin' on up

Young Margaret probably only has hours left before she moves up to a toddler bed. Hours. I had planned to keep her in her crib until the summer, but the little bugger has demonstrated she can just bend at the waist just right and try to get out. She hasn't successfully gotten out. Yet. But the clock is ticking. I have casually been looking at toddler beds. I have some specific wants. I want either a bed that uses a crib mattress or a twin, but I don't want to get one of those in between beds that requires a whole new set of sheets. Right now, we're down to three sizes -- twin, crib and queen.

I am loathe to go to the toddler bed. Unlike Andy who I don't think realized he could get out of his twin bed for probably two months, Meg absolutely knows. And absolutely knows how to open the door knob already. On my list is one of those door handle protectors to keep her from letting herself out. I also will have to bolt everything to the wall that isn't already or take it out. She's turning out to be quite the thrower these days. Sigh.

All this is at a time when she's been struggling to go to bed. Last night the little brat darling refused to finally go to bed until after 10:45 p.m. She might have been up later, but I finally crashed. It's now almost 10 p.m. and she's finally quieted down after a 90 minute struggle where poor Baby Elmo and Daddy Elmo were sacrificed overboard as she protested the sheer injustice of bedtime.