Too quiet.
So this weekend we decided to push through another milestone for the fabulous Miss S.
A big-girl bed.
She's going to be three, so we thought it was time (and we were partially right).
So... on Saturday morning, Dave got up out of bed, took the crib apart and hauled it downstairs (where all of our furniture goes to die). And my stomach hurt. Wait, it could've been my heart. Yes! It was definitely my heart.
Goodbye crib. Goodbye baby.
He replaced it with the toddler bed that Henry used...the one he began using when he was exactly the age Stella is now. And that obviously meant one thing...Stella and I had to go shopping. For new sheets, a new blanket and a pillow ("Mamma, I don't have a pillow and I want a pillow. PLEASE, mamma. A PILLOW").
She picked them all out herself - the sheets are birds and butterflies and flowers... and the blanket is a soft cozy green (my girl digs a cozy blanket). And, for good measure, she threw in a Lightening Mcqueen pillow to seal the deal. Holy hannah does this one love the Cars movie.
And she was happy. And my heart, stomach and all the rest were happy too.
And, apparently in the spirit of all this milestone craziness, she even let me put her hair up in a pony tail and a barrett (first time ever...ever...that's she's let me do it vs. the certifiably crazy lady that cuts her hair).
But the funny thing about this whole weekend is, at every turn, we're shown how different - how unique - these children are.
Henry is six, and I can count on one hand the number of times he's gotten out of bed without asking us.
Bless his stinky little heart.
Stella's been in her own bed just two days and gets out whenever she pleases - we can hear her feet hit the floor, the door crack open and a distinct little pattering to our room.
And here's the thing...
I love that he stays in bed.
I love that she doesn't.
It's all good. The milestones. The sheets. The barretts. The boy. The differences.
We may be done with the bebes, but all of it's just good.
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