i need somebody

will goes in streaks. not the streaking kind of streaks. he does that all the time. streaks where he is good at going to bed. and streaks where he is not. we are currently in a streak of him not going to bed good. we are not fans of coddling. when it's bedtime. it's bedtime. last night was no exception. or maybe it was. after repeated warnings that bedtime was near he started. whining. kicking. hitting. since he refused to go on his own my husband picked him up and put him in bed. he is almost three and he is still in his crib. i have no issue with this fact. he has shown no desire to move to a big boy bed. and i enjoy what sleep i do get at night. he can stay in his crib until he is fifteen for all i care. so, he is in his crib at this point. screaming. bloody. murder. my husband finally makes it out of his room as he is totally inconsolable. we can make out that he is screaming that he does not want to go to bed. he is screaming so loud you can picture the veins in his neck bulging. and his eyes popping. and in the moments to follow his rhythmic screaming turned to concern. for a moment. he then was screaming that he needed help. my husband asked if he should go in. i said hell no. it's just a ploy. after a couple of minutes of yelling help i decide to go in. because he can't sweet talk me. i won't let him. i open the door. and it's dark in there, of course. but in the brief second that it took me to scan his bed he isn't in it. my heart stopped. he is, in fact, on the floor. needing help. in that instant i believe i won parent of the year award. he was laying face down on the floor. and sobbing. uncontrollably. by that time my husband came in the room. we checked him out and he seemed to be okay. after a brief investigation of the crime scene we determined it was an over the top rail crib escape attempt. thank god we watch csi. we got him calmed down. about fifty-three minutes later and he was happy as a clam. and back in bed. next time he tries that shit he had better be on a skateboard.