Right now my little man is upstairs sound asleep for the first time on the bottom bunk of his big boy bed. When I went to lay him down for his nap he said, "dat big bed, Ma-ee." I obliged. Afterall, who am I to stand in the way of his big dreams?
I'm just not sure how I feel about this, though. Part of me thinks, "Praise God. Hallelujah. It's about time." Another part of me thinks, "No, no, no, he's still too little. My baby boy is NOT big enough to be in a big boy bed." There's also a little part of me that is just hoping he doesn't fall out.
This might just be a fluke and he may spend another year (or 3 years, if I get my way) in the crib, but I've got a sneaking suspicion that this is the beginning phase of his metamorphosis from a clingy toddler to a independent little boy. *sniff, sniff*
Stay tuned to see where this streak of independence might lead. God, help us!
A couple months ago I had a conversation with an unmarried, kid-less friend that went something like this:
Friend: "Don't you ever get bored? I mean, playing with kids all day, doesn't that get boring?"
Friend: "Really? Because I love my nieces and nephews, but I still find myself getting bored even with them!"
At this point, I knew what she was talking about. I remember being in college, babysitting for the best family ever. I LOVED their three kids and the parents were so good to me. I spent many, many days playing hide and seek, watching cartoons, reading books, pushing swings and often feeling bored. In fact, I distinctly remember feeling a bit panicked one evening while reflecting on my day with them after the kids had gone to bed. It had been a good day. There were moments of fun, but by the end of the day I was bored and ready for their parents to come home. I found myself wondering...Is this what it'll be like with my own kids? Will I get bored with them? Will I wish someone would come relieve me of my parenting duties at the end of the day?
I wish back then I would have had someone there to calm my fears. To answer my questions. To listen to my concerns and to tell me "nope" when I was worried about being bored with my own kids. I just doesn't happen. Boredom is not in the parenting vocabulary. Sure, we might get bored with our days, with our routines, with our "jobs," but NEVER with our kids.
Yesterday we had the best afternoon. My mom and I took the kids to the pumpkin patch and when we got home my cheeks were sore from smiling so much. Know the feeling? I know this is an obvious statement, but seeing my kids happy brings me so much joy. An unexplainable joy. Joy, that I hope everyone, especially my kid-less friend, will someday experience. Simple activities, like pumpkin patch exploring, that may be "boring" without three crazy kids, are easily transformed to unbelievably fun adventures when you see the looks of excitement, amazement, and pure happiness on their three rosey, round little faces. Joy, I tell ya. Pure joy.
Ok, enough of this mushy stuff.
The babies had their flu shots today and would you believe that Elijah didn't cry at all and Camden wimpered for approximately 2.5 seconds?!? True story. They're tough. Like I said, 'nuff of this mushy stuff.