We gave away the crib.
Of all the parenting milestones that I’ve encountered so far, I don’t think that any have hit me as hard as this one has.
The last time that we moved someone to big girl bed, it was just weeks before a new little one joined our family.
But, in the blink of an eye, that new little one isn’t so little anymore. She said “Bye, bye crib” and we moved her big sister’s bed into her room.
And, big sister, who is just a couple of weeks away from turning five, got an even bigger, big girl bed, that once belonged to mama.
The rational part of my mind knows that our family is complete. But, there’s a part way, way in the back of it that often thinks about what it would be like to do it all over again…just one more time.
Having a crib in the house would leave the door open to that possibility. It would be “a thing that could actually happen.”
Maybe that’s why I felt like I had to find it a new owner, sooner rather than later.
So, today, I helped another mama load it into her car, to take home for her little one. I ran back inside the house before she pulled away, so that I wouldn’t be tempted to chase her car down the street, telling her that I changed my mind.
Yes, if the need ever arose, I could buy a new crib.
But, this is not actually about a piece of furniture.
It’s about realizing that the part of my life–in which I tiptoe into a darkened bedroom and peek over the side of the crib, just to make sure the little bundle inside is still breathing—is over.
It was indeed, the longest, shortest time.
And, I had no idea how sad I would feel about that.