I literally feel like it was yesterday I wrote about your monumental night's sleep.
And here I am again, already updating that story. Sure, it took me two weeks to put this into words, but I'm like that. This is just one more milestone I - we - hurdled and I wanted to get it right.
A few months ago, you began asking for a bigger bed. For specific reasons; so you could have legitimate sleepovers with your besties, E., and B. You asked Daddy everyday if your new bed was here. We both knew it was time. You're tall, your toddler bed was cramping your style. The soft, pliability of your crib mattress wasn't doing you any favors. I knew it was time.
So, two weeks ago you went to Camp Grandma's and the transformation I feared took place. I emptied out your changing table, and moved that to the office. Did you know there was still a tube of diaper rash cream in it? Yeah, I kept it. I know. It's ridiculous. I know; I know. Daddy dismantled your crib, and fit the pieces onto your new double bed. I only cried once. Sorta twice. But ... it was just so bitter sweet to fold up that crib sheet for the last time. Now your bedding looks just like ours, all big and proper.
You screamed with delight when you saw your bed for the first time. You hugged Daddy hard, for making your nocturnal dreams come true. You wondered if you could even scale it; of course you did. Look at how freaking tiny you look in that big bed.
You went to immediate work assembling your entire stuffed menagerie on your new bed. I could barely pick you out of the crowd. We then spent the next two hours of pure daylight telling you it wasn't time for bed.
We gave in, at 6:42pm, and tucked you in.
You made sure you had NaNa by your face, per usual. You located your Nigh-Nigh from Auntie SG. You asked for Gloworm, and made sure she had batteries. You said goodnight to all your animals, no small feat these days. And, when there was nothing left do, you went to sleep.
For your standard weekend 15 hours, too.
I guess it's a sign you were right where you should have been.
Your bed is backed against the wall. I put it there so you could always wake up on the right side of the bed.
But, let's be honest. You're related to your Dad and you two are as far from morning people as anyone I know.
So, mornings are still rough at 7:15am, five days a week.
You know I love you, right? You know I hate to wake you up?
You know the last thing I want to do is try to dress an alternately wet noodle, straight-limbed crier into clothes, right? So we're clear?
But, I'll do it. I do it already.
Because I am your Mama.
And you're my baby.
(even if you're not)
And we have thousands and thousands of more mornings ahead of us.
Big beds and all.
You and me.