My Misguided Tears

It was a hard morning, one of the hardest I’ve gone through in quite some time. At first, I thought about blaming the tears on my hormones, but quickly realized that I would be crying regardless. My husband and I spent our Memorial Day morning, taking down a crib and putting up a toddler bed in it’s place.

I knew the day would be coming and I’d heeded the warnings of so many other moms out there who suggested I wait until the absolute last minute to take him out of his crib. Well, with the new baby scheduled to arrive in approximately seven months, and my mother in law in town for the week, I thought now would be a good opportunity to convert Davey. I’ve heard stories that it could take months for him to get used to the new bed, so why not do it now?

Once the toddler bed was in place, the emotions began to wash over me. He’s not my little baby anymore. I mean figuratively, he’ll always be my little baby, but the thought of no longer being able to walk into his room and seeing his little face above the rails, with his arms reaching out to me and saying, “hi, mama”, just made me start blubbering. My baby was growing up and while I’ve watched it and known it every day, for some reason today was the day for reality to hit me like a ton of bricks. I actually felt faint and even slightly sick at my stomach. Where did the days go? The seconds have turned into minutes, minutes into days, and before I’ve known it my little baby is now a little boy.

We brought him upstairs and the tears began to flow even harder. Davey immediately ran and took a flying leap onto his bed. He tossed around and laughed a bit, climbed back down, grabbed a couple of books, climbed back in and then with his head on his pillow and one leg crossed over the other, he began reading one of his books. How sweet!

And then a few hours later, the true and actual reality of the repercussions of my actions really hit. Why oh why was I ever crying about my sadness of him being all grown up? What I should be crying about was the fact that I may no longer be able to take advantage of long afternoon naps. That’s right, folks, we spent three hours yesterday afternoon playing the infamous game of “Keep the Baby in Bed”. Guess who won? Yep! Davey did. So, obviously, my tears were misguided. I’m convinced that subconsciously the tears were falling because I knew that blissful afternoons of getting things accomplished while Davey slept were quickly becoming limited.

Only time will tell what becomes of this story.

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