A baby locked up in her crib, at my mercy, peaceful in her room until
I say she can come out, safe in "baby jail", sleeping in a cage era. And it's bittersweet.... for all of the reasons I just mentioned and a million more. Am I being dramatic? Sure. Give me a little leeway, she's my baby. It was nice to know that she would be there until I got her out. It was nice to feel needed when I went into the room every morning to lift her out of the crib. It was nice to listen to her play in her crib with her dollys on the monitor. It was nice to only have to change a crib sheet every week and not to have to deal with pillow cases and top sheets and quilts and all of the other shize that goes along with a big girl bed. All that is over (with the girl child at least) now. The crib has been (FINALLY) passed on to baby Lukey (who'll be one in a few days) and Eva is in her big girl bed.
How did she do in her first night in her big girl room you ask???? She didn't cry, or complain, or climb out, or fall out and break her leg, or get up in the middle of the night, or pull a bookshelf over onto herself, or break the mirror on top of her dresser, or fall out of the window.... None of that stuff that I thought was going to happened, the stuff that was keeping her in the crib all this time even though her big girl room has been set up for over a year, happened.
Sweet because it was a momentous occasion for us. A banner day at the Lifschultz household. Eva is in her big girl room at the ripe old age of 2 years 4 months. Bitter because all of this time I thought she couldn't do it, wasn't old enough, would keep me up all night. Bitter because I feel like a heel for doubting her and for the aforementioned reasons. Anyway, it's done... We lived through it... and it wasn't bad. AT. All.