Sunday, April 14, 2013

The Crib


Friday afternoon I walked into Owen's nursery, decked out in a forest theme with tall painted trees, calm brown walls and his name hanging above the crib.

In my hands I held a crib sheet featuring the same woodland creatures I've seen for more than two years - little porcupines and angelic deer surrounded by dark red mushrooms. I pulled the mattress out of the crib and stretched the four corners into their comfortable places.

After stuffing my baby's bed back together, I stood there and looked for a minute. This is all going to be a memory soon.

SAPPY ALERT
(As if I had to tell you. You're pretty smart.)

I peeked into the crib and saw a sweet little baby, lying flat on his back and swaddled tight. At five months old we finally moved Owen from our room into his own. It was a very hard decision for me. Apparently I have a bit of an attachment problem with this kid.

I looked at the blue glider in the corner and saw myself, frustrated to the point of tears with a colicky, screaming baby in my arms. I didn't know what to do other than love him (And share this chore. Often.) Eventually, it worked.

In the closet, my mind saw the adorable baby boy clothes that no longer fit anyone in my family. They're now boxed up, ready for the attic.

I walked over to the corner where the Daddy-painted trees converged and I saw a pile of his favorite toys. And I saw him.


My two-year-old son is outgrowing his nursery. If you read my last pregnancy update you'll know this adorable woodland room will soon be transformed into a classic pink-and-blue girl's nursery. Owen will join forces with his older brother down the hall and tuck into a toddler bed. The big boys' room and the baby girl's room.

This is hard, y'all. I don't know if it's because of the smaller age gap, but I am not ready to give up my baby boy. I'm not ready for pull-ups and toddler beds and big boy stuff. And it's not because any of that is hard (I'm well aware it will be), it's because it's the end of an era for me.

Standing in Owen's room, the big, white crib looked back at me, full of memories of the complete babyhood of both of my boys. This thing knows every one of my anxious new mom worries, every late night cry, every early morning snuggle, every mama lesson learned.

I love Baby Nora with all my heart and I am so ready to get her into my arms and into the crib that will soon be hers, but I'm stuck between longing for my daughter and keeping my baby son.

Do you think she would mind sharing her crib?