Goodbye, Little Room

For nearly five years, the room has been a home to our boys.  It’s been their room, their nursery.  It’s been the place where they rolled over for the first time, learned to sit on their own, and the bane of my existence on many a sleepless night as my little ones cried out in their first few months in this world.

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Starting the nursery.

Five years ago, my husband and I began the process of turning one of our guest rooms into a nursery.   When we set out to create the room, neither one of us were looking for the high end glamour found between the glossy pages of the hundreds of magazines that cater to parents.  No.  We didn’t want something sophisticated or snobbish.   We wanted fun.   We wanted a children’s room, not a miniature version of our room.  We wanted something that screamed, “a child lives in here,” and full of bright colors and shapes.   So, without knowing the sex of our first child, we started on one of our first adventures down parenthood lane.

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The finished wall.

We chose a white bed just so we could match it with a dresser and nightstand that we already had.   And then going with the most gender neutral of themes, as well as something I knew my husband would like, we decided to turn the room into a nautical adventure.

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One wall became a sea and sky, with various sea life decals along with the sun, clouds, and a few sea gulls.   From that point forward, we just accessorized and within a few weeks, not only did we know we were having a little boy, but also Captain Davey’s cabin was complete aboard the S.S. Doser.

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The nursery is slowing becoming no more. 


From the start, I sat in the floor of the room, breathing in the tranquility and imagining what our lives would be like.   I read to Davey as he kicked in my belly, told him stories about his room, what it was like and how much I knew he would love it.   I would lie on the floor and romanticize about my happy little home and family, my little baby toddling around.   I planned out his first 18 years of life lying on that floor.   It was the greatest room in the house and I never wanted to leave.

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Davey, and my husband and I, enjoyed nearly two years in that room.   Two years of sleepless nights, of stories, of rocks in the rocking chair, of sleeping on the floor while Davey held to my hand just so he would feel safe.  We had two years of more memories than I ever thought possible.  Then Henry came along, and the cabin became the quarters of Captain Henry.  Another round of sleepless nights followed, along with afternoons of his big brother watching over him while he napped.   Dixie even managed to sleep in front of the crib some days, ever the Henry’s protector.   Now, nearly 2 & 1/2 years later, this little square room of bliss and memories, is soon graduating up as we turn the nursery into Henry’s big boy room.

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This afternoon, I began the painstaking process of taking down decorations, removing books, and taking down curtains.   I’ve started patching holes where nails and screws once resided.   With each piece of decoration that came out of the room, my heart hurt just a little.   As I began repairing holes, a tear travelled down my cheek, and then I had to stop.   I had to just take this room in again, a room that has served as nothing more than a place for my boys to sleep, and look at it again.   I had to look at each little corner, each little area of the carpet and just as if they were holograms coming forth from my memories, I could see my boys as babies in this room, and I began to cry.

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Davey the protector.

I never thought it would hit me this hard.   I never thought that removing baby items would hurt the way it has.   Truthfully, I’m a bit nervous as to how I’ll be on Saturday when the crib comes completely down and a new queen size bed sits in its place.  This is a chapter that is quickly closing in our lives.   It saddens me and yet excites me at the same time.   What new adventures will await us?   What sort of mischief will be caused by Henry once he has his big boy room in place?   And just like five years ago, I find myself sitting on the floor of the nursery, it’s pitiful, naked, saddened state, and wondering what will our lives be like next year?

While the walls of the room may still stand tall and strong, I feel as if we are saying, “goodbye, little room.  Just like your inhabitants, it’s time for you to grow.”


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.

Toddler Bed Phase 1

I’ve become THAT mother!   You know which one I’m talking about.   It’s the one who seems to be unwilling to move into the next logical phase of her child’s growth and development.    Some may say I’m a hinderance.   I don’t know about that, but I do know that I’m not ready for Davey to graduate to this next level.

He’s made it clear that it’s time to move on.   He’s sent subtle and even not so subtle messages to me, but while I can see them and acknowledge them, it doesn’t make it any easier for me to hit the resolve that now is the time for Davey to get a toddler bed.

I know, I know, a lot of you are already there and have been there for quite some time.   A lot of you have made a big deal about your child(ren) progressing along and I’m guilty of doing the same, but in this instance I’m perfectly content with telling other mommies out there that Davey is still in his crib.   There, I’ve said it!   He is still in his crib and I don’t feel even slightly bad about it.   No, Sir, I don’t, but I will tell you what I do feel bad about and that’s the fact that moving him into a toddler bed makes my heart sick.   It makes me feel sad.

I love the fact that my sweet little penguin lies in bed and waits for me to come get him.   I like the fact that I can contain him in this one place.   I like the fact that keeping him in a crib makes him still feel like my little baby.   If I move him into a toddler bed, next thing will be a big boy bed and then school and then dating and driving and, oh my goodness, I just can’t keep travelling down this road!

My husband seems to be just as eager as I am to keep Davey in his crib, but for more logical reasons.   For example, he’s afraid that since Davey moves around so much in his crib, that he may fall out of the opening and either hurt himself or worse still, wake himself up (which means we’ll be awake).

Much like having a second baby, I should just rip this band-aid off as well.   I’m not going to ask any of you if I’m crazy, I’m well aware that I passed crazy a long time ago.   And I don’t care how many of you judge me for keeping him in a crib.   I’ll get there in my own time, I know I will, but I’m still curious….at what age did you start putting your child(ren) in a toddler bed and what was the reason you chose that age?

Don’t worry, each day I’m getting closer and closer to making this happen.   Just don’t push me, ok!?!?!?!