David's brother, Jon, was visiting from Calgary last Thursday. We had a blast, playing board games, eating homemade French dip sandwiches, going mini-bowling, and topping it all off with delicious dessert crepes. We had worn the boys out, so much so that Bram took a three-hour-nap. We forgot that we don't let him sleep that long because he is a night owl and won't sleep at bedtime if he does. So we put the boys down for bed at ten, their normal bedtime. David and I usually go to sleep right after them, but with Jon here we stayed up chatting in the living room. David put Bram in his crib and came back out to visit. A few minutes later we hear a thump, a door close, and a pitter-patter of little feet coming down the hall.
We expected Anders, so we were surprised when Bram appeared with a triumphant grin on his face, he had just figured out how to climb out of his crib. It was such a cute, proud grin and we were so caught off-guard that we all busted out laughing. That was a mistake. For the next hour and fifteen minutes, we had a constant battle with Bram every two minutes trying to get him to stay in his crib.
Luckily, we didn't give in, even though David really wanted to, and we haven't had the same problem since. Bram will still climb out of his crib occasionally, but not every night, and usually not more than once.
I have the cutest kids.
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