Jones Deere

Well, Jones's transition to "big boy bed" has begun.

I say it's begun, because we've put the bed in his room, but he's yet to actually sleep in it. He's surely excited about the wood stained twin that belonged first to his great great grandfather Stultz and then to me, but each of the two nites that my childhood bed has been in Jones's room, he's finished singing with me and walked right over to his crib, no matter how much he talks about his new "tractor covers" throughout the day.

This transition was inspired by my friend Jennifer. She's expecting her second son in September, which means her just-turned-two-year-old got bumped to the guest bed earlier this week. Talking to her made me realize that we need to get a move on this upgrade, too, but I know Jones well enough to know that it's gonna take him some time to get used to the idea of sleeping some place new.

I thought that, maybe, some new sheets may sweeten the deal. Thursday morning, I showed him pictures of Thomas sheets, Paw Patrol, and "Wahken." "Oh! It's so cute," he'd say (as he does). I'd ask, "do you want Mama to put those sheets on your bed?" "No" was his answer every time ... until I showed him the John Deere tractor set. He went a little bananas, so he went down for his nap with the promise that, after he got up, we'd go to Wal-Mart.

In Jones's words, "Oh, boy!"

But before we did, he saw the actual bed put together. Immediately, he ran into his room and said, "A new bed! Cool bed, Mama! Dat cool bed! ..." I asked him, "Could you SLEEP in this bed?" He looked at the floor and said, "BOOM!" Then I asked, "Do you like it?" He responded, "I like it, Mama! Awww. How cool!"

Then came the promised trip to Wal-Mart, which was just as exciting.

 

I have truly NEVER seen this child so excited about ANYTHING. Later, when I got his bed made, he jumped on it. He laid on it. He couldn't talk about anything else.

Still, I knew his staying in the bed all nite was a long shot - which is why I'd left the crib up to begin with. So after singing our songs, Jones jumped out of my lap and walked straight to his crib. I didn't even try to dissuade him. First, I knew it'd traumatize a kid as averse to change as my boy is.

Secondly, I'm not sure I'M ready for the big boy bed. All afternoon when I'd walk by and see it set up in there, I'd feel all funky inside, which is a weird feeling for the kind of mama who prefers "big boys" to babies. I've never been the one to think, "Stay small." But this bed thing is throwing me for a loop.

It reminds me of when Jones turned about 18 months old. All of a sudden, I had the awareness that we no longer just had to keep Jones ALIVE (fed, safe, clean, etc.). We, all of a sudden, had to start  teaching him how to LIVE - how to be a good and decent human being, a functional member of society and all that.

This is another one of those parental turning points, where I'm seeing the transition from crib to bed as a giant metaphor for the fact that he's growing up and out of the safe little space where I can enclose him and protect him, and though I most definitely want him to grow up, I don't really like this suddenly-vulnerable feeling at all.

So while Jeremy didn't understand why I didn't force the transition that first nite, that's why. I'm not ready to make the leap myself. Maybe Jones gets his aversion to change from me?

Not surprisingly, Jones's first words this morning were "big boy bed." He's repeated the phrase a thousand times today, and he and Freddie spent I don't know how long sitting on it, reading books this afternoon. In spite of that, Jones still went to sleep in the Jenny Lind la-la land that he's called home, since his first nite home from the hospital.

I'd kinda like to crawl in there myself.

It never fails. Freddie ALWAYS "reads"
upside down.