Necessity is the Mother of Learning to Operate Doorknobs

At the ripe old age of 2 years, 7 months, Quynh had still not learned to operate a door knob.  And why would she?  With two parents and a brother to open doors for her, she had no need.

Until she moved into her Big Girl Bed.

The first few nights in the bed she slept like an angel, waking at the usual hour of 6:30am and softly calling to us or signing to herself to let us know she was awake.  We'd go in and find her still in her bed, playing with her baby dolls.  The transition from crib to bed went so smoothly, I thought to myself, somehow forgetting my past experience.  Then, just like her brother before her, it occurred to her that she could simply get out of bed.  Whenever. She. Wanted. 

The next few nights, she woke early and decided enough was enough.  No longer caged in her crib, she climbed out of her bed.  But she was trapped in her room by her inability to figure out the enigma that is the doorknob.  Logically, she knocked to be let out.  One night Minh and I woke to the outrageously loud sound of tiny little knuckles rapping on a door at 2am.  And then again at 5am.

This habit spread briefly to bedtime.  A couple nights in a row, just after being tucked in, she would start knocking on the door.  We found that if we opened the door and tucked her back in there were tears.  But if we ignored the knocking it eventually stopped.

But then one evening it happened.  We tucked her in and closed the door.  Less than two minutes later the door *opened* and Quynh came out, announcing, "Mama, I have to tell you a secret."  Trying not to let my face betray the absolute shock and horror (and not even a hint of pride) I felt at her new-found ability to escape her room, I tucked her back in and told her to save her secret for the morning.  She wept.  And fell asleep.

For the next several nights, Quynh woke at the ungodly hour of anytime-before-6am, came out of her room, and wandered down the hallway.  She'd come into our room, clad in feety PJs, nuk in mouth, stuffies tucked under arms, and blanky dragging behind her.  She'd look up at me with those big black anime eyes and ask, "Can I come in your bed?"

And I'd say "No."

It's so hard to say no, but we learned with the first kid that we have to.  So each time, we'd put her back in her room and she'd cry.  But eventually she got the hint.  She's still not sleeping all the way until 6:30, but this morning she stayed in her room (doing God-Knows-What) until then.  Actually, I take it back.  I know what she was doing.  She has one of these things, where you scratch off the black stuff to reveal sparkly rainbow colors underneath. She adores it.  And at one of my recent 5am wake-ups (during which I found myself arguing with a 2 year old over whether and why she had to go back to sleep) I grabbed the notepad off her table and suggested she busy herself with that till 6:30am.  Not the best decision, since I now find her sheets covered in little black flecks every morning.  But at least she lets me sleep.     

Now she has the cutest little night light on a timer just like her brother.  And we're hoping she takes to that system as well as he did.  Tonight's the first night with the timer and she's pretty excited about it.  Let's see what the wee small hours of tomorrow morning bring.