A month or so ago we took the kids to Nebraska Furniture Mart to get my son a bigger bed.
We have spent the last year listening to him bang against the wall as he tosses and turns in his sleep. Sometimes he bangs his head. Sometimes it’s his arms. Sometimes he rolls the opposite way and out of the bed entirely. Once he hit head so hard he woke up with a knot and a bruise on his forehead Apparently he’s inherited my propensity to head injury.
We’d finally had enough of the thrashing he called sleep and decided to go get him the bigger bed we’d been contemplating.
Sure he was getting the bed of all of our dreams. Great mattress. Built in storage. And a secret hiding place below to hide from us and his sister. He was on cloud nine.
**Side note-expect to find me in there hiding from them and his sister too.
This also meant that we would be moving our daughter from her toddler bed into his old twin. HER new bed.
A big girl bed.
And like a big girl, she had big girl demands. Purple sheets. Purple comforter. Purple clock. Purple clock? “Ok sweetie. You’re a big girl now.”
I suspect that the reason we waited so long to get our son’s bed was that it meant a new freedom for our daughter. We would be relinquishing some of the control we had. But that is what we are supposed to do. So onward we go.
I know we want our kids to grow up and become self-reliant individuals. The whole goal is to feed and water them enough that they leave strong and capable, educate them enough that they are both street and book smart, and love them enough that they know how to give and accept love. But this big girl bed has me feeling some sort of way.
And that’s not all.
This is just one of the many firsts that are also lasts. Ridding the room of her toddler bed and crib sheets. Replacing them with her handpicked decor. Finally getting rid of the changing table. This all means that this is the last time we’ll have a toddler in the house. Granted- the toddler years are challenging. It is 1050+ Days of WTF-but nonetheless, we won’t have them again. These are the last.
I am sad and happy at the same time. This big girl bed of hers is going to require some big girl pants for me. And wine. It also requires wine.
The good news is that I have a mountain of first firsts with my son and a new appreciation of how important it is to stop and take note of them.
I suspect first up will be the first time his little sister finds a way to trap him in his secret hiding place. Most likely first of many.
—This Girl Here
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