Like It's Dyn-o-mite

After my in-laws left for France last week, we decided to throw the hammer down on Mac in terms of his horrendous night-time behavior.

On the first night of the new regime, we put one of those baby-proofing door handles on his door, explained to him that he couldn't come out, and left him in his room with the door shut. The screaming lasted for an hour or so until he ripped the plastic door handle in half and threw it over his gate. Then there was some more screaming, and then a couple of hours later I somehow I ended up right next to him in the toddler bed for the whole flipping duration.

So. Fail.

The next two nights, I told him I'd sit outside his gate while he fell asleep. That worked pretty well. I even moved out of his line of sight and just called out to him when I saw his little shadow approaching his doorframe.

"Mac!" I said. "I'm right here, now go to bed." I was caring, yet firm.

For the overnight wakings, I stumbled out of bed and plopped myself on the ground outside his room. This morning we both woke up on the floor, on either side of gate. His little fingers were reaching out toward me from beneath it.

Tonight, after bedtime, I sat for awhile outside the gate and then I went downstairs and did the dishes! I felt really smug about this development until I came up and saw that Mac had systematically emptied his dresser and flung it over the gate. Here's a video of the pile of debris with a swim diaper making it's way onto the heap.