My Owen, monkey boy, demon child, capital T trouble, entirely too beloved by me, who escaped his crib at well less than two-years-old and began, shortly thereafter, standing on the side rail and flinging himself to the floor in what can only be called a deliberate attempt to break his little neck, has, at much less than three-years-old, exhausted the possibilities of a toddler bed and is currently spending his first night in a big boy bed. Which is, in point of fact, just a twin mattress on the floor, but it has Buzz Lightyear sheets, which were a huge hit. It took him a while to go to sleep, but then all was well and oh-so quiet. So I was rather shocked when I went to check on him and found the child sound asleep, across the room, sitting on the floor and resting his little head on the toddler-sized armchair in his room

Looks to be another long night around here. Also, wah my baby, etc.