Monday, life at our house changed forever. It happened suddenly, although I imagine I should have seen it coming for months. Things around here have been a big mess ever since. But it’s a big mess in a good way. I think.

Monday, I gave the crib away.

I gave away the crib that we’ve had for more than a decade. The one that has the varnish chewed off in spots by various children as they attempted to gnaw their way to freedom. The one that was only $200 at the consignment store that we bought when we could scarcely afford the crib, let alone the living thing that was about to move into it.

We gave it to a cute young couple. We packed it up and it was towed away. I watched it drive off, and I wondered, “Am I supposed to feel sad?” “Should I be mourning the passing of this moment in my life?”

I tried pretty hard to be sad. I really did, I tell you! I walked inside and told myself about all the things that this moment means. It means we’re done having more babies. It means I’m getting older. It means snuggles and cuddles have a definite horizon in sight.

I just couldn’t pull it off. I couldn’t muster tears. Smiles were all I had.

The tears were saved for Monday night when, at almost midnight, we were still carting the kid back into bed every thirty seconds, telling him he has to stay in the bed, he can’t get out, he’s got to stay put.

There’s this thing about little people that I’ve noticed. They don’t really respond to threats. I don’t even think they understand them in the slightest.

“Stay in bed or we’ll have to turn out all the lights!”
“Stay in bed or your blankie will have to go sleep somewhere else.”
“Stay in bed or we’ll all go upstairs!”
“Stay in bed or we’ll have to close the door!”
“Stay in bed…do you even know what ’stay in bed’ means?”

We’re on night 6 tonight. We’re down to about a half an hour of bed-returning. We’re hoping for the new neural pathways to take on full implementation in about another 5 weeks. We’ll let you know.