So we finished painting E’s room. It’s a lovely shade of light blue on 3 walls and deep dark blue on the other. (It’s funny that we’d resisted the stereotypical blue for so long and now we’re embracing it.)
More important than the color though was the brand new twin bed! We built up the Big Boy Bed! We had a parade to the Big Boy Bed! There was much rejoicing over the Big Boy Bed!… and then bedtime and chaos. He hated the bed. He wanted to get up. He wanted anything except being in that bed.
I felt so guilty, like I was trying to push him to grow up when really this is a very fun age. When he’s this small everything looks adorable and to hear these big words tumbling out of mouth is just amazing.
A couple nights have passed and from the initial hour and a half to get to bed we’re now back to the 30-minute wind down.
Last night, he told me “Daddy, get in big boy bed.”
I told him “Ok, but just for a few minutes.”
We lay there quiet for a few minutes, E with his eyes closed. He lifted his head, looked at me, grinned real big and then put his head back on the pillow. That earned him another ten minutes with me next to him. After the ten minutes, I rubbed his back and said goodnight. He didn’t stir as I snuck out of the room.