When The Rock Star was three months old, he moved out. Up until that point, he was sleeping in his Pack n Play in our bedroom. However, he was becoming increasingly aware of the fact that we were right there. It was distracting him from the task at hand--sleeping. Additionally, we knew that we were going to transition him to his own room at some point and we figured it would be better when he was little and not, say, three. He'd been sleeping through the night for weeks and he took the change like a champ. He's been a great sleeper since. Or, he was. Until this whole rooster fiasco. It's not a strange thing to find him on our floor in the morning. How he sneaks in so quietly is beyond my comprehension.
Yesterday, three days shy of three months and an old pro at sleeping through the night, we decided to transition Matthew into his own room. Except that he doesn't have his own room. He shares with Garrett. We were going to delay this change because of all the growing pains it's bound to cause as both boys learn to sleep through the other's shenanigans. Then we decided that if there are going to be major adjustments, we might as well get 'em over with. We could have given each boy his own room but decided that they can share. That way, they also have a playroom.
I love to organize. Troy, not so much. But yesterday, as we shifted furniture, he pretended beautifully. When we were cleaning up the dishes after dinner the following transpired...
Me: (dancing around the kitchen like a lunatic) Do you think I'm attractive?
T: Of course I do.
Me: What, specifically, do you find attractive?
T: Everything but your OCD.
Me: Oh come on, are you saying that you don't think a well organized room is sexy?
T: (rolls his eyes)
And in case you're curious, when the boys went to bed, roosters attacked The Rock Star almost instantly so, of course, he didn't fall asleep for almost an hour on account of all the trauma they'd caused him. Once he did, however, the boys slept peacefully.