The Mystery of the Blue Monsters

So, apparently, in utter defiance of our stated goals and actions, Miss Tessmacher and I have managed to fuck things up. Not with each OTHER, of course; no worries there! No, what we seem to be fucking up is parenthood. Here's the deal:

The Rozzle, for nigh 2-1/2 years, has been a fantastic sleeper. Titanic, 3-hour naps. In bed by 7:00(ish), sleep without waking until dawn. Which was only problematic during the high summer when Tess and I wished to sleep beyond, say, 5:30am. Always a little put off by schedule changes, Roz nevertheless rolled effortlessly through 6 weeks this past summer of sleeping alternately at Unnamed Northern Music Camp, Grandma's, G & Papa's, the Island, a tent, and, oh yeah, home. Not. A problem.

This winter break, the schedule went all to shit like it usually does: we're home for 4 solid weeks, school is out for HER for two weeks, there's no dance class, and all this Christmas shit all over the place. Well. Santa decided it was time for a big-girl bed for Roz, and he made a great present of it, replete with flannel Disney sheets and a brand-new quilt from G to top it off. Wonderful!

Or…not so much. I dismantled her toddler bed on the 26th and set up the twin. She napped in it that day & slept in it that night. On the 27th we went to Grandma's, and she napped in the car on the way. As usual. When bedtime came there, she went down, no problem whatsoever. In fact, she slept in SO late the next morning, there was no real reason to put her down for a nap; we'd only finished breakfast by 10:30, so she wasn't gonna want lunch so soon, and to go down for a nap at noon meant she'd only been awake for something like 3 hours! So, skipped nap that day. Unusual, but not unheard of. Next day (the 29th, for those of you who've lost count) was a trip home, and again, as usual, she napped almost the whole way.

And then…it begins. Fighting the nap. "I…don't…wanna…take…a nap!" Fighting bedtime. "Mom, don't leave." Worse and worse, seemingly out of nowhere, until we finally figured out that maybe the big-girl bed was just too much change, Santa had got it wrong, yadda yadda. We asked her if she wanted her old bed back, and she said yes. So, apart comes the twin, back goes the converted crib, and I'm thinking "Okay, glory, no worries now. Everything's back to normal, the Christmas shit is all put away, it's like the last few weeks never happened. WHEW!"

Right? WRONG! Still fighting the nap, wants to sleep in the spare bed or our bed. Won't let us leave at bedtime until she's fully asleep, and then without fail wakes at 2:00am calling "Mom? Mom?" Checking on her reveals that she's scared. "It's scary in here, Dad." I try to suss out why, reminding her that it's her room, where she's always slept, her bed, all her things, the safest place in the house…you get the drill. Nope. "I'm scared that the blue monsters will come and try to eat my blankie." I'd laugh, but that it's now 2:15 and I'm up at 6:00 to go back to work! I try logic: "Honey, there are no monsters." (You there! Bumble! Shut your toothless pie-hole, you ain't helpin'!) I try disarmament: "Sweetie, the only blue monsters you've ever seen are Grover and Cookie, and THEY'RE not scary, are they?" (Hey, Thog, who let you in here?! Get your 10' height right on back out the door. NOT. HELPING.) In order to get any sleep at all, I or Tess give in and bring her into the spare bed to sleep. Just so we can all get SOME sleep!

So…the fuck did the blue monster scare come from??? Is it a phase? Did we screw up her schedule so much that she's reverted and doesn't know how to stay asleep anymore? Please. He'p me.