The Long Walk Across the Grass and the Pretty, Big Bed

Have you ever had the thought when you watched a small event unfold, I am going to Remember This? This is momentous.

I could almost hear the shutter in my mind click this morning, as I watched Leo puff up his little red fleece clad shoulders, weighed down by his bulky blue backpack. He marched (a bit wobbly-that darn backpack) down the front steps of our house and across the large swath of dewy grass, looked over his shoulder at Ellie and me, not once, but twice, with a grin reserved only for water slides and wiggling puppies.

He had walked from the house all the way to the bus all by himself and oh was he proud.

He gave a final wave to us, right before he climbed the steps of the little orange bus. He was only across the yard, but he looked so … old.

Leo has been walking to the bus by himself (across the grass) for about a week now. The first time it happened by accident. Last year I always walked him right to the bus’ door (often with a still pajama clad or sometimes half clothed Ellie still in my arms). I clung to the fear of his oft-unpredictable nature and curiosity and predilection for running straight into the street. Sometimes it’s so hard to let go.

But one morning last week in the clamor of hurry-up-the-bus-is-here-and-where-are-Ellie’s-shoes-and-Leo-let-me-wipe-off-your-face, Leo made it down the front steps by himself. And so I stood there and watched him and well, yup, sure enough he was just fine. He made it to the bus, all by himself. Good for him. I know it’s not much when I explain it all out, but it just felt like a milestone.

Speaking of milestones, I give you:

Big Girl Bed Occupant.

I’m a big believer of keep them in the crib until they climb out (hi Leo, who decided to take a flying leap out of the crib when I was 38 weeks pregnant with Ellie and give me a small heart attack. Too Much Change!).

Ellie never did climb or fall out of the crib. She never even tried. But bed times were starting to take a loooong time. Questions about a “big bed” started coming. Since there was already a big bed in her room (Ellie’s room is our old guest room) it was impossible to make any excuses. I admit to being a little teary when I put her in the crib on Friday night for what (I thought) would be the last time.

Saturday afternoon Erin set up the bed rail and a giddy Ellie asked to go to bed at 7 p.m. After three hours and thirty different trips into her room to answer questions and requests, Ellie was back in her crib (she was given repeated warnings that this would be the consequence).

Sunday night was better. There were only a handful of requests, she settled down in the new, big bed fairly quickly, and slept through the night. She’s suddenly intent on “making her bed pretty.” All the animals must be positioned just the right way, the Princess pillow under her head just so, the covers tucked. That takes a while, but is not nearly as challenging as running up and down the stairs at 9:00 and 9:30 and 10 p.m. to the calls of a crib-bound little girl screaming "MAAA-MEEE!"

And the pretty bed? Not sure where she learned that one but it definitely wasn’t from me.