We have reached the end of an era in this Wenzel household -- the era of my sweet baby boy sleeping in his crib. We moved Deacon into a big boy bed a week ago and it went soooo much smoother than I thought it would.
Jeff decided he wanted to make Deacon a toddler bed so we could use the crib for the next one to come along (ahem, no announcements in that department, just be advised). Now WHERE that next child might sleep in this house we've yet to figure out but we'll cross that bridge when we get to it. :)
The bed is beautiful, as is anything my husband puts his time and talents to, with a contrasting base made up of 2 drawers and the railings for the actual bed part. The base is stained the same color as the dresser in Deacon's room.
And Deacon LOVES his bed! We have found him in his room (when all is too quiet), just laying in his bed. Because he can. He can get in and out of it all by himself, and I guess that's the novelty of it at this point. It is precious.
We had the big "unveiling" or intro or whatever you want to call it last Sunday night (Feb 10). Jeff was already in Deacon's room with the door closed, ready to hit "record" when I opened the door to let Deacon walk in. And you better believe I had that camera strap around my neck!
Our boy is definitely a rule-follower (most of the time). We gave him 2 rules for this bed: no toys in the bed and you wait to get out until Mommy & Daddy come to get you or tell you can get out. And he has done wonderfully with both of these rules (and can recite them to you, ahem). The first night I saw his lovey hit the floor when he rolled over with it in the one open space that it could fall out. Our little rule-follower got up on his knees, looked over the side of the bed at his lovey on the floor, got down and picked it up, glanced toward the door and then climbed back up in bed.
:: fist pump :: Good boy!
He slept all the way through the night without incident.
The 2nd night didn't go quite as smoothly -- he did fall out and got a little freaked out about that. I heard him cry out about 2am and when I looked at the monitor, he was on the floor. I sprinted across the house to desperate shouts of "Moooooommy, I fall OUT! Mooooommy, mooommy, I fall OUT!" When I got to his room, he was standing there with his lovey in one hand and his blanket in the other, reiterating that he fell OUT. I told him, "That's okay, buddy, we just get right back in bed if that happens," and I scooped him up and put him back in.
That's the only time that's happened to date. And things have gone as smoothly as they ever could since then. I am so proud of him for how he's transitioned to his big boy bed. Truthfully, he was probably ready for this way before mama was. But then, that's the been the case with most things the last 2 years, since I can't seem to get him to slow down growing up.
