I knew it would happen eventually. I have dreaded it and tried to mentally and emotionally prepare myself. This morning it happened. My husband, J went into the baby's room to get her up and there she was, one ankle on the crib rail and those freakishly strong arms poised to hoist herself up. The time has come for me to admit it. My baby needs a real bed. A big girl bed.
I think it is I who will miss the crib most of all. I spent months choosing the perfect crib. I envisioned a springy, fresh, green room with clean, white furniture. Simple and clean, a room where a little girl could sleep and play and make it her own as she gets older. The furniture would be sturdy and classic. Sure, most of it would come from Ikea but so what? The two pieces that we really splurged on were the rocking chair and the crib. I took a long time to choose. I wanted a sleigh crib, J doesn't like sleigh anything. In the end I won out. And I love that crib.
It's not the crib I will miss. We'll put it in storage and save it for another baby - ours or some else's. This change comes right on the heels of her second birthday. Apparently she is not a baby anymore. So I will miss all the baby times we had together. I realized recently that I can barely remember what it felt like to hold that tiny sleeping girl the first few weeks of her life. I don't remember watching her pull herself up on the coffee table for the first time. Or when she sat up without falling over. I guess that is whay I have taken more than 2,000 pictures of her in the first two years of her wee life. I thnk I'm coming to terms with this situation.
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