After much delay, for various reasons, Andrew has finally made the transition to a big boy bed. He spent the last two nights in the bed and, all in all, has done pretty well so far. The first night he only got out of bed once. Last night it was 3 times. It could definitely be a lot worse.
Checking out his new pad.
"I think I'm gonna like it here."
"No, scratch that. I'm gonna LOVE it here!"
While he has made the adjustment relatively quickly, I have not. I spent last night in a state of half sleep, either worrying that he was going to get out of bed and wander away, thinking I heard him getting out of bed only to check and find him sleeping soundly, or dreaming that he was out of his bed behaving recklessly and endangering himself as well as the whole family. Today I am going to Michael's to get some sleigh bells to hang on his door. I hope I will sleep more soundly if I know there is an "alarm" to wake me when he has escaped. I won't feel like I have to keep one ear open at all times.
I have to admit that it feels a bit strange to go into his room now. It feels so open and mature. Without the crib, all indications that this was once a baby's room are gone. He is growing, and with each evolution he takes, we as a family are one step further away from the days of raising little kids. In some respects, it's freeing. With his maturity, we have gained flexibility that we previously didn't have. We can go more, see more, do more. But I know that the times of snuggling on the couch and spontaneous kisses and hugs are limited. This transition is yet another reminder to cherish the moment for the moment, to sneak in as many extra squeezes as I can, and to be grateful for the blessings that come with each rising sun.
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