Big Boy Bed


It was just a matter of time.  In fact, we’re lucky we lasted as long as we did.  Tonight, I converted the crib to a big boy bed.  When I was done, all I could do was look at it and cry.  It was such a big moment for me.  The last vestiges of Robbie’s babyhood are quickly disappearing.  Well, except for the diapers.  I can’t quite get him to shake those.

It wasn’t a big moment for anyone else in the house though.  Robbie is unimpressed,  a little concerned about his broken bed and, unfortunately, screaming to get out of his room.  Yes, I finally gated him in.  After two hours of trying to get him to sleep, I resorted to physically blocking the door.  It’s all just a little too much freedom for him; Robbie seems to think this is license to just hang out all night.

Justin, comforting me in the way only a man can, said, “Well, he’s growing up.  He’s a big boy now.”  And then he headed back down to watch basketball.  So I was left to, for the first time, sit on my son’s bed.  I cried a little.  Robbie has been becoming a big boy for a while now, and it’s usually in the little ways that show up over time.  Getting his own juice.  Picking out his own clothes.  Telling me he needs to brush his teeth and get his hair cut.  Asking to hold my hand when we walk down the street.  But tonight it was obvious.  And it broke my heart.


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