Since the bed arrived two days ago, Oliver has slept everywhere but.

We found Oliver curled up on the floor at the foot of his new bed after his first nap, wrapped in the old comforter from his crib. The first morning, he and his old comforter were on the floor nestled beside his diaper genie. Later that day, when my husband peeked into Oliver’s room during naptime, my son was curled up on his change table.

Oliver’s transition to a big-boy bed hasn’t been entirely smooth, but his stuffed animals seem to like the new sleeping arrangement.

My toddler wasn’t ready to leave his crib, but he outgrew it weeks ago. The crib was inherited from my sister and after being used as a trampoline by two high-energy boys – Oliver and my nephew – it was on its last legs. The bolts creaked with every move and the sliding rail wouldn’t always lock in place. And some mornings I would find Oliver with his legs dangling out between the slats. It was clearly time for a new bed.

As recommended by every parent and parenting book, we talked up the arrival of Oliver’s big-boy bed with the combined enthusiasm of a high school glee club. We told Oliver he would soon be getting a bed like Upsy Daisy – a character on In the Night Garden, who inexplicably walks around wheeling her bed behind her – and counted down the days until its arrival. Oliver seemed to nod and he’d repeat the words, “big-boy bed,” but we’re not sure how much he understood about the coming change.

We hoped to buy pillowcases decorated with Thomas the Train to further sell him on the idea of a new bed, but we came up empty in local stores and online. Oliver would have to settle for green and off-white. We also found there are few bedding choices for little boys, apart from a couple of garish cartoon comforters. There was plenty of pink, purple, flowers and paisley, but very little blue – or even brown or green.

The bed arrived on a Saturday just before naptime. We put the mattress and box-spring on the floor – a friend suggested this after her son found the bed frame too high and intimidating – and quickly made the bed and put together the safety rail. My husband curled up with Oliver in the double bed to read him a story, then tucked him in. As we closed the door, Oliver smiled sleepily from the pillow. That went well, we said to each other with a sigh of relief. Famous last words.

For the next three hours, Oliver ransacked his room. He knocked over his laundry basket and tossed the clothes on the floor. He emptied his box of wipes and flicked the spring doorstop with a loud SPROING. He ran wind-sprints between his window and door.

A friend said her two kids never strayed from their big beds when she made the transition. “I don’t think they knew they could get out of bed,” she recalled. Oliver didn’t seem to want to stay in bed.

My husband and I took turns going into the room to tuck him back in bed. I even lay down with him for 30 minutes to try to coax him to sleep. All he did was play with the zipper on my hoodie and poke me in the eye before growing bored and resuming his wind-sprints. We decided to use the same tactic we used when putting Oliver to sleep in his crib – the drop and dash. As he did in his crib, he would need to figure out how to fall asleep on his own in his new bed.

We had some success on the second night – after a few false starts. When my husband and I peeked in just before retiring for the night, Oliver was fast asleep in bed, his head on the pillow. It didn’t last long – he was back on the floor by morning – but at least it was progress.