Five Nights

Five nights.
Its been five nights now since you announced to us after seeing your friends big boy bed that you were sleeping in your "own room", in the "big bed", because you were in fact, a "big boy" now. We laughed. We nodded. We gave each other glances and smirks and said, "Aw, that is totally cute. Okay, we'll see you in an hour big guy!"

Only, we didn't.
And you did.

See, I've never forced you to do anything. I didn't force you to walk, to talk, to give up the bottle, or the pacifier, or potty train or sleep in your own bed. Hell, I don't even force you to apologize. (Do I want you to apologize? Of course! Do I make you? No. Does something worse usually happen when you won't? Almost always.) But I've always let you lead the way. I've never concerned myself with keeping up with where other kids are in regards to where you are. You are so unbelievably smart and kind and gifted and talented ... I guess I just always knew all these things would fall into place for you, when you were ready for them to, not for when I was.

Which is funny ... because for the past 3 years you've slept by my side or within my arms reach - and I ended up being the one not ready. In fact, I was totally shocked to be honest. The first night I didn't sleep at all figuring you would come back into our room at any minute. The second night I cried and blubbered to your Daddy when I realized you weren't coming back that night either. I incoherently rambled about you graduating in a mere fourteen years (Hi, My name is Steph and I'm a total whackjob) and strangers sneaking into our house at night and snatching you up - you know ... past the dead bolted metal door, dog, squeaky stair gate and your light sleeping father. It wasn't my finest hour. It was kind of downright embarrassing now that I think about it. The third night I laughed at how stupid crying & being upset seemed, especially when so many parents would beg to be in our position. Last night I peeked in on you before bed and smiled - you looked so small crumpled up in your big 'ol bed and a part of me wanted to curl up right beside you, but I didn't - and you know, I finally slept well that night. And tonight? Well I've finally abandoned all hope of you coming back and your toddler bed has now become a laundry holder until we take it apart.

I've realized something these past five nights ... it hasn't been so much about you sleeping in your own room as it has been about how suddenly independent you have become. Its a fierce and bold take no prisoners kind of confidence. Little boy, you declare something and you mean it. You set out to do something and you do it 110%. I know you never want to fail, but I think you're too damn stubborn to know how to fail. Its scary and amazing to me all at the same time. Its everything I've feared and hoped for in you. And its not just the confidence. You look different lately. You sound different. You feel different in my arms.

I want to pause time.
I waited so, so long for you and it seems down right unfair at how fast these years go by.
But I know there is no slowing you or time down at this point.
There is no going back.
You've shed the baby years. You've shed the toddler years.
We're knee high in little boy territory now.

And all it took was five nights.

(Excuse my non made-up face! Me & my big boy the morning after sleeping in his own bed)