Super Nanny Is Probably Really Super. We'll See.

So several months back I wrote this post about a tricky situation the AG and I were going to soon find ourselves in; family of four moving into a 2 bedroom cottage, kids (ages 1 and 3) having to share a room, bunk beds are in their room, whattodowhattodowhattodo. Remember?

So we moved into our humble abode a few months back and I kept thinking to myself, "Oh, I have got to write a post on how well the kids are sharing a room and how well Rocco is doing on the bottom bunk and how no one thought it could be done and how everyone told me to keep him in his crib but how I - a parenting genius - can do the impossible, etc., etc., etc."

Thank God I never wrote that post.

Because oohhhhhhh how I would be eating vast amounts of crow right about now.

We have lived in Snow White's house for almost three months now and not once have we had a problem..........until Friday night.

And then, suddenly and without warning, Rocco learned how to get out of his bed.

And open the door to his room.

And escape from Alcatraz.

And by Sunday evening I was TiVoing all the episodes of Super Nanny I could find.

Apparently she has some really swell solution for things like this. She says that in order to get a child to stay in their bed you should put them in their bed and say "goodnight." Then you should sit on their floor, turned away from them, and when they get up you should put them right back in their bed without saying a word, until eventually they wear themselves out and fall asleep.

And to this I say? DOES THIS WOMAN HAVE NOTHING ELSE TO DO WITH HER NIGHTS??

It is almost 10 PM and I'm not gonna lie people, I'm tired and my back is killing me. And maybe I'm not reading the signs right, but he shows no signs of slowing down. None. None at all. Zero. Zip. Zilch.

I have one of those plastic rails on the side of his bed so he can't fall out, but lets be honest, falling out of his bed is the least of his worries. He has a sister who has all but held his head in the toilet and made him beg for life; I assure you a little tumble out of bed is a piece of cake for this brute. Besides, it doesn't stop him! It's like watching Micheal Scofield in an episode of Prison Break. I suppose I should just do what the experts say and let him free, if he loves me then he'll eventually come back to me. Right?

In the mean time I'm stuck in the middle of the floor in my kids room. Something stuck to my foot that was wet and I could have sworn I just heard several tortured toys scream, "C'mon! The little girls not in here yet - let's make a break for it!"

Ahhhh well. I suppose I shall just sit here quietly, with my back turned from my little man, waiting patiently for him to disobey so that I can get my old arthritic self back up off this floor, put him in his bed again, plop back down on the floor and then hit the REPEAT button all over again.

At least that's what the Super Nanny says. And at this point, I'm going with anyone who has the word "Super" as their first name. Oh wait, I have to go...there is someone standing behind me breathing heavily in my ear. Either I'm about to be the victim of a serial killing or Rocco wants to see me try to get up off the floor again.