The curse of the big boy bed

We moved Eric into his 'big boy bed' this weekend. It's actually a toddler bed that looks like a race car...we thought this was a brilliant thing to have when Evan got out of the crib, and except for the pains of hauling it in and out of the attic and someone not saving the screws that hold it together requiring a trip to Home Depot, it's a pretty cute bed.

Eric disagrees. He wants nothing to do with it. Ethan reads him stories in a rocking chair and I can actually see Eric getting worked up at the thought of sleeping in this bed. He looks at it out of the corner of his eye with an evil glare and his breathing gets more labored...I kind of feel bad for him. And then the crying when he actually has to get in the bed...oy. I'm sure I will regret it, but I have been laying down next to him and then, every couple of minutes, easing my way to the door. So far it's been working okay, except it takes waaaay longer to put him to bed than it used to. But that's not the worst part.

The worst part? He's waking up an HOUR earlier in the morning. An hour. That's a lot. And the only way to get him back in the bed laying down? Yep, I have to lay down next to him.

There must be another way...