Everett is ecstatic about this turn of events because it now means he can run over to his book shelf and get something to read whenever he wants. I'm sure he envisions never sleeping again. The dangling carrot of the bed becoming taller in a month is worthy of constant song and dance in his little world. For now, sleeping on the bed is probably right up on the list of movie nights and "Grandma Day" as greatest things ever. He celebrated this momentous occasion by singing "Happy Birthday" at a level all the neighbours could celebrate when he woke up this morning.
Now, some may be a little shocked that we waited a month before he is heading off to school to make the transition to a bed. I know many that leaped into change once their child turned 2. The actual decision to make the change had less to do with Everett and more due to the fact Danika refuses to stop growing and is becoming too big for her bassinet.
I'd also like to argue the molasses movement towards sleeping arrangement change was due to me being a parent who prioritized safety and wanted to avoid late night crashes to the floor. It also had the practical effect of knowing exactly where he was at night and early morning, and we got lucky that Everett's one less than successful attempt at climbing out of his crib gave him enough motivation to never try that again. We knew he'd stay put and he was happy entertaining himself in there (he used it to fly to Japan many times over the last several months).
Except those weren't really the reasons. I was dragging out transition from the crib (despite Everett for the last few weeks singing countless songs about how he wanted a bed now) for the same reason that I still willingly carry him down the stairs in the morning, it prevented yet another milestone marking that my boy could no longer be called baby or even toddler.
It shouldn't be such a surprise that moving out of the crib was a bigger deal for me, since I am the guy that got sentimental about a cardboard box. It is a lot less about where Everett is sleeping but rather another reminder that he is getting painfully close to heading off to school. The days of Everett distracting me from writing and encompassing the majority of my time is coming to an end. While I guess I can accept that children grow up and that my son is ready for school, it doesn't mean I won't be a gooey and drenched mess for the first week or month or year.
Everett is well aware of my aversion to his growth, which is why he gleefully declares that he is going to become a teenager. He doesn't really have a clue what that is other than I don't want one and it means he'll be tall enough to reach the top shelf of the pantry where we keep his treats.
The mattress on that bed doesn't mean I suddenly have a teenager but it does mean Everett is ignoring my pleas that he stops getting older. It also means that some traditions become ancient history. Ever since Everett started talking, the morning routine involves him calling out my name when he is ready to get up and the volume will increase until either glass shatters or I get him. Depending the week, he'll also call for "Giant Pickle," "Winnie the Pooh," "Baloo" or whatever other character he has decided that I've become for that day or second. To be honest, some days it was really annoying to get his immediate call to action when I was in the middle trying to finish the last few sentences of an article, but this morning, the day just didn't feel right when my little man could just come running out of the room himself.
The Great Bed Change of 2015 is the first heartbreak before the emotional shattering event that erupts this September. Like in almost all these cases, Everett will bounce around in excitement and I'll be inspired to pull out the photo album from 2012.