Crib Love

I was changing bedsheets the other day, and as I was smoothing the sheets in Flynn's crib, it hit me. Hard. I wouldn't be changing sheets on this beautiful crib much longer. I realized that my baby is almost three. And while I have never had a hard and fast rule about when I take a baby out of a crib, my two older girls moved to a big bed around three years old. My Rhett stayed in his crib until he was almost three and a half. I remember thinking that he couldn't start school while he was in a crib. Even if it were only three-year-old preschool!

I don't know what made me think about Flynn moving to a big bed sometime soon. Maybe it is her third birthday looming ahead. (Even if it is over two months away...) Maybe it is the fact that Peyton is getting ready for a room redo, and Flynn will be sleeping in her room. We ordered new bedding and got matching pillows with each girl's initials on them. When I saw the one for Flynn's bed, I almost cried. Maybe it is because my Madison is almost sixteen!!! And I remember like it were yesterday Steve and I shopping for a crib for our firstborn baby.

In any case, I realized that this piece of furniture, this beautiful crib which has been a part of my life for almost sixteen years, will most likely no longer be needed. That bothers me. I can't explain exactly why except to say that our crib signifies the baby years to me. It in itself holds so many wonderful memories. I was never one to rush a baby out of a crib into a toddler bed. I love a baby in a crib. I love seeing a baby all snuggled safe and sound and protected. I love waking up and seeing a little face peeking out at me through the rails. I love hearing a baby calling me when nap time is over, and the smile on that baby's face when I come into the room. I love the sight of a baby's outstretched arms waiting to be picked up and snuggled.

I will miss this time of my life, which seems to have passed so quickly. I remember when Rhett moved into his big boy bed. I kept the crib up in his room as long as I could in hopes that it would be needed again. Even though we eventually took it down,  I wouldn't let Steve put in downstairs in the storage area. I kept it upstairs in the small attic space off our bedroom. I just couldn't part with it. And by the Grace of God, I did get to use that beautiful crib again for my baby Flynn. I can't believe it has been almost three years since that wonderful day when we set it up again, this time in our own bedroom.

Now as the clock ticks down on my" baby years ", I enjoy every moment of dusting and changing sheets in that crib. I stand beside it while Flynn is sleeping. I run my hand over the teeth marks that my Madison made while she was teething all those years ago. I see Peyton giggling as I pretended not to be able to find her when she played hide and seek with me. I remember sooo many nights of reaching under the bed skirt of the crib to find Rhett's binky in the dark because he somehow managed to fit it through the slats. And I am sad at the thought of it all coming to an end. But I am also grateful that I had this beautiful crib in my home all these years. And who knows, maybe someday it will be used again. Although, at almost forty-three years of age and with four c sections behind me, that seems unlikely. But as my sweet husband recently pointed out to me, our grandchildren will have a wonderful crib filled with many sweet memories waiting for them right here someday.