Two days ago, when Aidan woke from his nap, he attempted to climb out of his crib. Thankfully I was already in his room when he fell out head first. I caught him inches from the floor.
At 2 years and 2 months he is making the move to a big bed.
The bed is so big, and he is so little. Or so it all appears.
And he is struggling. This change has not come easily. In the middle of the night, for hours (yes hours), he will ask "crib please?" One issue I know is that the crib and his bed are in the same room. We could dismantle the crib, but it will be he and his bed that will shortly (in a weeks time) be moving over into Grace's room. So for the next week, he, his big bed, and his crib, all share a room.
This morning I was so tired I was on the brink of tears. My Mom came and took Grace to school for me, and after a slow period of getting ready, I took the Little Chef outside. It's amazing what fresh air can do to wake one up and brighten the spirit.
And this afternoon, as I type, I want to cry for a whole other reason. The little man is asleep in his bed, with not much of a struggle. And I hope, and pray, that this means that maybe the hardest days of this transition are behind us.