You just KNEW this would inspire a new blog post.
Hurricane Jane is no longer contained! Duck and cover!
Really though, with all the anticipation, moving to the big girl bed has been...well, rather uneventful. I guess Jane's bedroom curtains would beg to differ with this statement, since they got pulled OUT OF THE WALL on her second night of freedom, but other than THAT mishap, it's been a pretty smooth transition.
But what of the baby bed?
I got this email from my mother this morning: "Tilda, what did you do with the baby bed? I had a dream last night that you got pregnant again."
Funny, because last night *I* had a dream that all my front teeth fell out and I was spending my time running around and trying to find a dentist who could fit me in IMMEDIATELY, but I kept being distracted by the children's needs. And then I would remember my teeth and panic.
Between these two dreams coming true? I'm not sure which one would shock me more.
Where were we? Oh...right...the baby bed.
Jamie and I got that baby bed when I was pregnant with Jay. Jamie spent HOURS putting it together with his father. I am NOT EXAGGERATING. Hours. This was before he was mechanically inclined. The whole thing DID sort of resemble a scene from a movie where everyone gets frustrated with the crib and wants to beat it with a screwdriver. I think my mother in law and I went to Target to escape their wrath. Target is good for that kind of thing.
But eventually, the crib DID get put together, complete with beautiful bedding and sweet baby Jay slept in it until he turned two and I evicted him to get it ready for baby Annie.
And when we got it ready for baby Annie, I decided that I wanted my dark wood crib to be white. So my father spent a few days sanding and spraying the crib as it hung from the ceiling in my garage. This time, putting it together was much easier. And when Annie finally came home from her stint in the NICU, she slept in her newly painted, beautiful white crib
When Annie turned two and a half, we found her a cute little toddler bed at a garage sale. We bought her cute little bedding at Target and spent an afternoon taking down the crib and getting her cute little room all set up with her new bed. That lasted aboooouuuut and hour and a half. Poor Annie was so terrified of her cute little bed that we could not bear to leave her in it. Jamie put the crib back together at nine o'clock at night. Luckily, by then he had gotten quite adept at it. I think we ended up selling her cute little bed at OUR garage sale when we moved to Oklahoma. She never slept a night in it. She went straight from the crib to a twin size bed when she turned three.
When I got pregnant with Jane, my in laws hauled the crib from Mississippi (where it was being used by my niece) and brought it all the way to Oklahoma. Jamie and I spent MONTHS preparing Jane's room for her. This time, all four of us put the crib together. Jay and Annie helped us to get the whole room ready for their baby sister.
And so, when Jamie and I took the crib down we had all those memories swirling around us. All those labors of love that our family had put into that crib. And this time we knew we were taking the crib down for the last time.
And it's not just the last time because Jane is the last baby, it's the last time because THE CRIB IS BROKEN. The crib is also recalled. Yes, you got that right. I let my third child and last baby sleep in a broken and recalled crib. That's what happens when you're the third baby. Your mother no longer cares about things like recalls and broken beds. I believe it makes Jane stronger in the end. Survival of the fittest. I learned THAT in Biology. I think.
Anyway, Jamie and I are sitting in Jane's room, surrounded by crib pieces, talking about the memories we have with the crib (like it's a PERSON!) and Jane is running around her room alternately yelling, "Bye bye baby bed!!!" and then falling upon the crib pieces and crying, "Nooooooo....my baby bed BROKEN!!!" THAT didn't tear my heart out AT ALL.
So then, Jamie looks at me and says, "Okay...so what do we do with it now?"
What do we do with our broken, recalled crib that we do not have attic space for? It is broken and recalled, so we cannot sell it. It is broken and recalled, so we cannot donate it. It is broken and recalled, and we don't have the attic space for it (because WE DON'T HAVE AN ATTIC). Jamie says, "I guess it needs to go in the trash."
We both looked guiltily at the crib. It sat there, in pieces, on the floor, silently mocking us.
We decided to put it in the garage, where we will trip over it every day until it drives us crazy enough to put out with the trash.
That may take a few years.