The BIG girl bed

The crib is genius. Whatever caveman thought up the baby prison deserves a lifetime achievement award way more than Susan Lucci. Child yawns, walk her to her room, lay down in said jail and bliss! No worries about plummeting to a carpety death and no napping on me in slings. If we are huge fans of the crib, we enjoy hogging our beds just as much.

So when exactly does that moment come when baby needs her own bed? I'd just as soon wait until college but CPS might come poking around. The thing is Little Dude has grown far beyond his pack and play and needs her crib. He gobbled up a loaf of that "Eat Me" bread from the rabbit hole last week and nearly doubled in size. What are those animals that grow to fit their cage? Yeah, he's one of those. So...twin or toddler bed for the girl? Our thinking? When we get pregnant with triplets next time, I'd like for the nursery set to match, at least when they're older. So we'll order a toddler bed in the same finish as the crib set for easy-on-the-eyes room sharing decor.

Toddlerbeds.com is a pretty awesome place to order from--they have free shipping and no tax and great prices. If they'd like to pay me to say that I'll gladly wear a sandwich board, but for now the Cowboy will take care of it. [The bank card has a Dallas Cowboys logo on it, selected by a certain testosterone laden, chest painting member of our family...if you can't beat 'em...] Our Little Dude is in baby heaven, breast stroking his way around his new pad, but the Hot Tamale is another story.

My mom brings this blow up twin mattress for her to use while we wait for the bed to arrive. I bathe her, read several bible stories about Cheesus, and we walk to the new spot. "Oooo," she says. This is going to be a piece of cake. We lay down, sing a song, and I tell her who loves her. "If you need help, just say 'Momma' and I'll be right here." She's all smiles. I am such a good parent! Walk to door, "Nite, nite, honey." And as soon as the door clicks, the siren wailing begins followed by attempted jail break. She sprints to the door and bangs, yelling. Crap!

This was one of those parental forks in the road. Do I re-cuddle and risk an even bigger backlash? Do we tough it out and resist entry as long as possible? Eeesh. Not a good feeling. Lord, a little help!! I open the door and walk her back to the "oooo" big girl bed. "Lay your head down. It's time for nite nite." Second verse, same as the first. Double crap. Wait a little longer. Then open door and point to bed with my best teacher look. The Hot Tamale sprints back this time and puts her head on the pillow. That booger knows what to do--ha! I've got all night, honey.

Repeat two more times...do I really have all night? Yes! Be strong! After thirty minutes of rowdy play with the androgynous baby she passes out.

Missing baby prison already...