About 2 months ago, we said “bye” to the crib and got you a big girl bed. And I do mean, big girl bed – it’s a full size bed. In the crib, you looked enormous. Like a 30 year old sleeping in a crib. Now, in the bed, it looks like a put a 5 month old to sleep in it. It’s a big bed. Needless to say, Dylan is jealous.
You love your bed – no training necessary. You finally had room for all your babies. And I do mean all your babies. You would line each up, read them stories, whisper goodnight to them and give them kisses. Throughout the evening we would hear you wake up slightly to pretend-change their diaper or ask for the pretend bottle for your babies. The last few weeks though you’ve wanted the babies to lay on the floor and you want 50 books spread out over half the bed for you to browse through. It sort of made me sad. I love that you want to look at your books and I love overhearing you make-up the words on the page and create your own story. But you suddenly seemed older. And it felt like it was happening too fast – not for you – for me.
Right as I was feeling that way, the routine changed again. Each morning you would wake up and browse through your books waiting for us to come into your room. This morning was different. At around 7am, you opened your door, walked into my room, crawled into my bed and curled up into me. It was what I needed in that moment and I didn’t mind it one bit. Then you did it again the next morning. And the morning after that. And for each morning 3 weeks after. Sometimes it’s at 7, sometimes 6, once (thank god) at 4:30. I’ve done nothing to try to break this habit. And have no desire too. It works.