Our little guy will soon enjoy a big milestone!
After nearly two months of work, countless trips to Home Depot, eight coats of paint and one of Tony’s fingertips, AJ is getting a big-boy bed!
Over the last two and a half years, we’ve spent almost every night either rocking or laying next to him as he drifted off to sleep. He’s never been a great sleeper, so we created some habits we probably shouldn’t have created. When you look up, “How to get your child to sleep,” you’ll see our picture in the “Don’t’s” section. AJ’s had bottles, woken up a million times a night and pushed Tony out of our bed more times than I can count. Many nights, I’d lean over his crib every hour, barely coherent as I rubbed his feet or hands until he fell back asleep.
In the last six months, he’s slept through the night maybe four times. I’m exhausted, Tony’s exhausted and AJ is exhausted. It’s time for something to change. We’re hoping this custom-built tractor bed will do the trick.
But Mommy’s not ready.
There are so many cliches: “It goes so fast!” “The days are long, but the years are short!” “Enjoy every moment!” and so on. Truth: Those cliches are legit. And I’m caught right in the middle of them all.
In preparation for a new paint scheme in AJ’s room, Tony moved the crib from the wall and took down the teddy bear letters he’d made that spelled our baby boy’s full name. I cried on a plane the night Tony surprised me with a photo of those letters. I cried with sadness for the name the letters replaced…and with joy for the new name that I hoped would bring us peace.
One day last week, I sat in AJ’s room, surrounded by the too-small clothes and stuffed animals we’d unearthed from various corners. AJ bounced around me, energized by the chaos of everything being moved around. I stared at the empty wall and cried again–this time for the removed letters, for yet another change in this room that had seen so many things, and for our sweet baby boy that wasn’t a baby anymore.
The little voice that used to only make “ooh” sounds in his highchair now has the power to reduce me to heart-exploding rubble.
“Mommy?” he said one afternoon while we sat together, eating lunch.
“Yeah baby?”
“I wub you,” he said, wrapping his arms tightly around me and nuzzling his head into my neck. “Daddy wub you, too.”
I marvel at what he’s picked up from us and the world around him, and I’m constantly amazed at how he applies all of his new knowledge. In truth, I often forget how young he is. He can hold a conversation, use his intuition, offer empathy or share a perfectly timed joke.
Day in and day out, my Magootie and I do our thing: a little Frozen, then some breakfast, reading, nap, lunch, errands and a dance party before Daddy gets home. We paint, get pup cups at Starbucks, run down the aisles at Sam’s Club, chase each other through the house and snuggle if he’s sad or sick. Daddy is his hero. I am his haven.
I know these moments won’t last forever. This week, it’s a big-boy bed. Then, before I can even process what’s happening, he’ll be off to college. That means I do all I can to embrace the exhaustion of each new day and savor the sweet sound of “Mommy!” all 627 times in an hour.
His new bed is too small for two, and even though I’m excited to share slumber with only my husband, I’m dreading the moment I won’t be able to snuggle our baby to sleep anymore. So tonight I’ll hold him close, his head pressed against mine as his sockless feet kick off the covers yet again. Sleep tight, sweet AJ. This is the beginning of a million milestones. But don’t grow up too fast. Mommy’s not ready.