New years are always full of big ideas, new beginnings, things that will change and be better. Or not. Resolutions are made and broken in weeks (or days... or hours). But the idea that we can change ourselves and that we have a marked start time is hard to resist.
One of the big changes in the new year involved the boy. Yesterday we took down George's crib and put up his Big Boy Bed. I couldn't help but think of how different it was putting together the bed than when the crib was assembled almost 4 years ago. Then, we had no clue what we were in for, we had only been married a little while, the house was quiet and full of anticipation. This time, George kept yelling "What is taking so long?" and Clara was "helping" me, it was loud and busy in the house, and like all old married couple we alternately sniped at each other and cracked up at how "easy" the assembly was.
I may have cried a little bit, too. I can't believe how big my boy is, my first baby. He climbed up into that bed, adjusted his Moon in My Room, said good-night and rolled over. Before I went to sleep, I snuck into his room to check on him like I did every night for the first two years of his life (before the slightest noise outside their rooms would wake the girl and lead to another sleepless night). He had turned off the moon and was laying there all stretched out, hands over his head and toes pointed, snoring away. But his stuffed kitty was still by his side. My big boy.
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