The first night with both boys in beds went great. Duncan woke up once because of some asthma-ish problems that have been bothering him (and me) ever since the power outage shut down the basement dehumidifier for a week. Other than that, both boys slept well. When they woke up this morning they talked for a while, then came into the living room and told me, "We're done sleeping now, Mom." It was 8 am. Simple as that.
But they've been tired today -- and I'm tired today -- so the nap was in a downward spiral. Duncan had already had a melt down, and even after he was calmed down he kept getting out of his bed to antagonize Tristan. Tristan really wanted to sleep, and the third time his stuffed cat was stolen he was verging on a melt down, too. So, I moved poor Duncan back to his crib, where he has been sobbing his heart out between longer and longer intervals of exhausted silence for the past 15 minutes.
All and all, I think this means things are going ok. Tristan took longer to nap in the big-boy bed than he did to sleep in it at night. I had to put him in the crib for a nap a few times before he figured it out. Plus, Duncan seems to be asleep now, so everyone will be rested later in the afternoon and bedtime should go well.
Still, at the moment I feel like a murderer.
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