(They say that when you're behind on something--like a scrapbook or a photo album-- and you decide to try and catch up, you should start with the most recent thing and work backward. I suppose that may work for blogging, too. I need to backtrack, but I'll start with today.)
We just moved my son from his crib into a "big boy" bed. And I'm a mess. I know, I know...an almost three-year-old boy doesn't need to be in a crib anymore. But sometimes these things are so hard on a mama's heart. I can already tell he's on the brink of that big transition that seems to happen at age 3---it's like all of a sudden, any hint of "baby-ness" seems to just disappear. Poof! Suddenly you have a small child on your hands. Not a baby, not a toddler, but a young child.
And while this is so exciting, it can also be tough on sentimental saps like me. I have to sigh every time I notice him saying a word correctly instead of using his cute little mispronunciations. What last week was "muppin" and "dolpin" are now "muffin" and "dolphin". I'm assuming we're also nearing the time of not being able to refer to him as "Diaper-ino" anymore.
Not that our lives are by any means perfect, but I think if given the opportunity, I'd freeze us all at these ages and stay this way for quite some time. Some of you that don't enjoy the baby stage probably think I'm nuts, but despite the rough spots, I love my kids at these ages SO much.
Sure, I do alot of feeding, diapering, and refereeing, but truth be told, I could sit and watch them interact all day long. I'm not sure how it could get much better than this. They really are more fun than a barrel of monkeys.
Going back to my emotional state, it doesn't help that their room is now transformed from what used to be the cutest room of the house to an official disaster area. We're not done putting everything in it's place, and so far, I'm really not used to the change. We got bunk beds for the kids and took out the pretty metal daybed. We also rearranged in an attempt to gain more floor space for playing. The bunks are very nice (a great Craigslist find that we'd been saving for), but they just don't have the same feel as the other bed.
This is what their room looked like before (and the real "after" shots will have to come later, once the room is put back together):
Here they are just climbing in to the bunk beds. Garfield is making "bed angels" in his sheets, which is why his limbs are stretched out like a starfish (it's the closest thing he'll find to snow angels in these parts).
See what I mean? Not nearly as cute of a room...yet. I'll withhold my final judgement until I get things arranged, get some bedding for the bottom bunk, and see the complete room in the sunlight. That always helps. I hope.
But either way, cuteness loses out to practicality in this case. This great bunk also has a trundle underneath, which will be for Elizabeth once she's ready for a big girl bed in about a year (sniff, sniff). So we'll have stackable babies! Three children all taking up the sleeping space of only one twin bed! (She'll soon take over Garfield's crib and "promote" to the kids' room, but we're not quite ready for that kind of partying.)
My work is cut out for me as I try to get things back in order (does everyone else's house seem to explode over the weekend, even when you're not rearranging rooms?).
And if my friends who are sending their grown sons back to college and law school this week are reading this, forgive me for being such a mess over moving my baby to a big boy bed. But we both know I'll be in your shoes in the blink of an eye...and THAT'S what really has a hold of my heart strings.