The big-boy bed disaster: can't they make bigger cribs?

We finally made the move and it's been horrible.
Matthew and Jonathan are in big boy beds.
I was hoping to keep them in cribs until they turned 18, but nothing was working anymore. We'd brought the crib mattresses down as low as they could go and we clothed them in big-kid sleep sacks, but still, they managed.
They managed so well that I found Jonathan perched on the highest wall of his crib the other day at nap time and I watched, unable to reach him on time, as he leaped into Matthew's crib.
It was terrifying.
So I bought beds and had them set up within five hours.
Trouble is that these two feed off each other.
Their similar temperaments mean they are similarly wild.
In their cribs, they jumped up and down simultaneously until they simply couldn't do it anymore and they crashed. In their beds, they do the same thing except now there are no crib rails to confine them.
Now, they jump off the bed, or from one bed to the other.
Now, they get out of bed, open dresser drawers, climb them and pull their lullaby CD from its player.
Now, they dump laundry out of the basket and scatter it all over the floor.
Now, they don't nap and it's draining to put them to bed at night.
We tried lying down with them. (We can spare only one person at a time because we do, after all, have two older kids.) They step on our tummies, our faces, our legs. When we are settling one, the other makes a beeline for the door.
We tried putting them down every time they got up without saying a word. That worked with our older kids. The older kids gave up after they realized they weren't going to get attention for their antics.
Not so with these guys.
They get giggles out of each other.
And that's enough attention for them.
So now we lock them in like prisoners.
We give them some toys, listen for any sounds of true disaster and pray that they will be okay.
When all is quiet, we go in and pick them up off the floor or straighten their little bodies on their beds, and change their diapers. Then we cover them up and lock the door again only to find them standing in those dresser drawers again as soon as we hear the first peep over the monitor in the morning.
Yes, the dresser is attached to the wall, but it might loosen. It might give way.
Yes, they eventually fall asleep at night, but they wake at the crack of dawn and, without naps, their personalities are not so pleasant anymore. My "good-natured terrors" are losing their good natures.
Yes, we should consider separate rooms for naps, but we don't have the space right now and we definitely don't have the childproofed space.
So, I guess all I can do right now is keep trying to get them to bed even earlier, duct-tape the dresser drawers every night and have patience. Have patience that the days will grow shorter again and they will sleep longer. Have patience that as they get older, they will need less sleep. Have patience that their good natures will once again take over.
Now I just have to figure out how to find that patience.

Wake up sleepy head

Not long ago, when one twin would awaken from a nap before the other, he would relish the time alone with my husband or me. We would cuddle him, read to him, rough-house with him or just carry him around on one hip.
Those days are gone.
Nowadays, we spend that precious alone time trying to distract the wide-eyed twin, who is determined to wake up his brother. They are drawn to each other's cribs like magnets to metal.
Eventually, we give in and the awake twin grabs the rails of the sleeping twin's crib, shaking the bars and yelling until his brother lifts his head and rubs his eyes. Once his job is done, he toddles away, content knowing that his brother will soon be toddling behind him.

Bonding With Two

When our oldest was a baby, I nursed him back to sleep each time he awoke. Later, when he switched to formula, I gave him a bottle and rocked him. Finally, our pediatrician said that he would sleep through the night if we'd just kick the bottle habit. We did and he slept and I learned that for occasional wakings, all he needed was soft caresses on his back.
Our daughter didn't like to be cuddled. She still doesn't unless it's on her own terms. But we figured her out too. She needed to be changed and to know that we were there. With the simple comfort of our presence, she could dream again.
But those memories were at least five years old when the twins were born and I was filled with fear. What if they didn't sleep well? What if I was up all night every night, first with one and then with the other? I harbored no sentimentality about getting these little guys to sleep. I was militant. I'd feed them once during the night and only after 3 a.m. After that, they were on their own.
And it worked.
Until they started teething.
On a typical night, the boys will fall asleep between 7 and 8 p.m. and then wake around 5:30 a.m. I'll feed them each a bottle and leave them in their cribs to play. Sometimes, they will go back to sleep until 7. Other times, they'll get up with my husband about 6 a.m. But they've always been good natured about it.
Teething has changed everything.
They had been so good about going back to sleep on their own, that I had never bother to figure them out. So when Jonathan woke at 10 p.m. the other night and cried and cried and cried despite a bottle and a diaper change and medicine and attempts at rocking, my husband and I were at a loss. We were up with him for two hours before he could stand it no longer and he crashed.
It happened again a few nights later.
I panicked.
What if this became a habit? Our oldest son has trouble falling asleep, so he keeps us up later than we'd like. He'll lie there for an hour or two pondering important things like whether a spider who lost a leg would grow it back exactly as it was and how strong that leg would be when he first started walking on it. He is very good about staying in bed, but I just can't fall asleep when he's awake. So I wait.
Our daughter has her own issues. She is very intelligent and a perfectionist. With that comes high anxiety and vivid nightmares most every night. So she usually wakes up once, cuddles with us until she feels better, and then we bring her back to bed. Her pediatrician believes she will get better with age and she is improving, but it's going to be a long road.
That is hard enough.
I couldn't bear the thought of being up with the twins as well. On those two nights when Jonathan woke up, I barely got three hours of sleep and what I did get was interrupted. So last night when Matthew woke up shoving his fist in his mouth, I tried a different approach. I didn't even change him. He was wearing a night diaper and had only been in bed for an hour.
Instead, I gave him a little Tylenol and started rubbing his back. About ten minutes later, he was asleep.
Jonathan woke an hour after that and I tried the same method.
It worked again.
It was then that I realized how much I'd been missing out on with the twins. I sing to them while they sit in front of me on the living room floor, but I don't sing to them while I rock them in my arms like I did with the other two. I can't. When I try, the other twin crawls up to the chair and tries to pull his way into my lap. Then he cries.
I don't carry them around the house on my hip while I do chores, talking them through each step to help improve their vocabulary. Instead, I let them wander more and explore every nook of the house. I show them flashcards with animals on them and make funny noises. I let them crawl all over me while I lie on the floor.
I don't cuddle them on my lap while I read them book after book after book. I can't do that either. They are too wild. They grab the books out of my hands even if I give them other books as distractions. So I read to them after meals while they sit in their highchairs.
It got me thinking.
It got me thinking that I am not as in tune with them as individuals and worrying that the lack of intimacy will somehow hurt their emotional development. Maybe I should try harder. Maybe I'm being too selfish.
Then I caught myself doing it. I razzed Jonathan's belly and kissed him all over his head and neck after I changed him on the changing table. I do that almost every time I change him because he loves it.
I scooped up Matthew and saw that look on his face that said he was about to plant a kiss on my cheek, so I held him close and whispered, "Kisses, kisses, kisses" while he soaked my cheek with his love. Then I swung him around. He loves to be flipped, swung and bounced.
And sometimes, I mix the boys up for just a second. Then one of them does something. He moves a certain way. He makes a particular sound. He lunges for one toy instead of another. And I know instantly who it is.
The thing is, I am not bonding with one baby. This is different. I am bonding with two individuals and with the twins as a unit. At the same time, they are bonding with each other. I am not missing out. They are not missing out. It's just a whole new adventure for all of us.