I think I’m adjusting well to this transition for three reasons. First, we put it off for so long and the thing was on back-order for so long, that I was thankful it was finally here. I kept picturing T.Puzzle telling his future therapist that his Mom kept him in a crib until he was sixteen. Secondly, he’s a big kid and his crib was frail. I was certain there would be a horrible crash in the night and Mad Dog and I would find T.Puzzle buried under the collapsed rubble of his crib alive, but visibly disoriented. And the third reason is that a part of me way deep down in the secret vaults of my Mommy reality; I never, ever, ever, ever (am I making myself clear?) again want to have a newborn as a permanent resident of my home. So the crib leaving my house was symbolic that my newborn days are forever behind me. It didn’t feel sad, it felt like freedom. I often wonder if that ‘i want a baby’ feeling eventually comes or if I will have any regrets. I’ll let you know just as soon as I send little T.Puzzle on his way to college.
It’s the end of an era. My little guy loves his new bed.