And every time I peek through the doorway, I’m surprised that it’s not there.
It had been through a lot. It had been urped-on, peed-on, and projectile-vomited-on. It had been the launching pad for countless binkies, stuffed animals and sippy cups that were chucked out, trajectory style, by the little occupant within. The thing had been plastered with stickers. Heck, it had been used to cut teeth on.
But I hung onto it. Because it was one of the last great markers of babyhood.
It reminded me of late night feedings. Of stumbling into his room, my eyes halfway shut, to snuggle with a warm, hungry little infant.
It reminded me of a time, before he even arrived, that I lovingly decorated his nursery with little stars and cowboys. When we redid his room, he decided he didn’t want no stinkin’ cowboys anymore. “Big Boys like dinosaurs,” I was told.
It reminded me of walking into his room in the mornings, and seeing him beam and stand up, arms outstretched to greet me.
It reminded me of a time when I knew he was safe, secure and, most importantly, contained in one place in the house. Now, he gets out of bed at will, roaming the house and stirring up mischief at ungodly hours.
When we packed it up, it reminded me that it was the last time it would ever be used. At least by our family.
It reminded me that I could still pretend that he was my little guy. A baby. Now he’s a Big Boy, because he sleeps in a Big Boy Bed.
He was ready. Even though I was not.
13 thoughts on “Gone”
I want my kids to grow up, I really do b/c it is fun to watch them learn new things but I wish they came with a switch that I could pull to make them turn back into babies for just a little while so that I could hold and snuggle them again.
We’re probably only a few weeks away from transitioning our daughter from her crib to a big girl bed and it’s been making me a little sad. I’m also going to miss her greeting me with outstretched arms in the morning.
On the other hand, I’ll be able to lie down and snuggle with her.
Then again, she’ll also be able to climb into OUR bed to snuggle with us.
Yeah… I suppose I’ll also miss the containment. 😉
Yes. The containment factor is definitely a big plus to the crib. I definitely miss that.
Nice to see you here, Kristin. Thanks for stopping by!
OH! The outstretched arms! It’s the BEST. This is so bittersweet. I know it’s great watching them grow, but also sad that they aren’t little babies anymore!
It’s so hard to love who they are and who they were at the same time.
That might be the most profound KLZ comment I’ve ever seen here. Love that! Seriously, you almost made me tear up with that comment. And it’s so true.
Sniffle. I’m having a hard time with my baby growing up! But my toddler…well, she’s staying in a crib as long as possible. She’s kind of a little terrorist that doesn’t sleep when left to her own devices.
We’re about to get ours back out from storage. I think we’ve forgotten what it looks like!
And in another five years, you’ll be grudgingly letting go of toddler bed…if it lasts that long. The ones we had were used as launching pads for boy bodies.
I remember getting rid of ours…it was truly one of those bittersweet moments.
Oh my heart, ouch.
So big, so fast.
At least we still have so cute. 🙂
You are brave! I’m not letting Amelia out of her crib until she starts to climb out. I can’t even think about giving up my afternoon “catching up on blogs” nap time. She’ll be in it until her feet come out of the bars if I have anything to say about it.
I do remember saying goodbye to Asher’s crib though, so I feel your pain. I think KLZ put it perfectly
Oh no! Man, just with your comments there you took me back through the toddler years…
And just like that? Gone.
I love this, but I don’t…I am sure you understand what I mean, my friend!
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