Empty Crib Syndrome
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Two weeks ago, I took Baby for her two-year visit at the Pediatrician. I brought Toddler too so she could get her flu vaccine. I was amazed at how differently my girls acted while there. Toddler was utterly unfazed by her surroundings. When the nurse sidled up with a big needle, Toddler did not blink. She was simply psyched that she would receive prizes: a rubber bracelet thingy, stickers, and a lollipop.
Baby, on the other hand, clung to me the moment we walked in the doctor’s office and welled up with tears anytime a nurse or doctor approached. She screamed when given her shots and prizes did little to distract her.
Fine. They are different kids.
I had a nice time talking with our Pediatrician. We talked about the increasingly-obvious fact that I am pregnant with my third girl. We discussed changes that should ideally take place before the new baby arrives this spring. She suggested that we start to casually approach the idea of potty training. She recommended that we move Baby to a big bed in a couple of months, around the new year. After a successful transition there, we should tackle the issue of pacifiers. Baby still loves her “poppy” and uses it for every night and nap.
I left the appointment feeling empowered to know that my kids are healthy and that I have a plan for the months ahead. Things to aim for. Things to try.
But then. Three days ago, Baby reminded me of something: This is not all up to us. She told Nanny she wanted to take a nap in her big-girl bed. And she did. She slept for two hours. And that night? She slept in that bed again. It has been days now. She has fully graduated to her big bed. Now? There is an empty white crib in the corner of the purple room.
And I know I shouldn’t be, but I’m a bit sad. That she is no longer curling up in that white crib where she slept the very night she came home from the hospital and every night since. That she is getting so big and so fast.
But sad isn’t it. I’m also amazed. That we can plot and plan our parental courses, aided by the very wisest of well-wishing experts, but that things will happen the way they happen. One day, things change. Just like that. And the changes are little, but they are also big.
And I am proud, too. Of course I am. I have created a little being with a mind of her own. A little being who said enough is enough. A little being who climbs out of her big bed early in the morning and pulls the little yellow step-stool over to her sister’s bed so she can climb up.
We found them this morning in bed together reading a story about pirates.
And I am comforted by this image, this image of closeness, of companionship, of sisterhood. I am also comforted by the little creature inside me, tiny but growing. The little creature who kicks me now after a few pieces of Halloween candy. The little creature who will soon sleep in a certain white crib.
{One question for all you experts out there: What happens when there are no more babies to pop in that crib? What then?}
Baby, I’m so so proud of you. But if you promise to stop growing up so fast, I’ll let you keep your poppy until you go to college.
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In this world, do you think control is a fallacy? Have you been at once saddened and heartened by moments of transition or evolution? Have you ever experienced a simultaneous desire to stop time and speed it up? Any experience with Empty Crib Syndrome? When did your wee ones graduate to big beds?
Everyone struggles and...
I can tell you what happens when there are no more babies in the crib (besides packing a lot of boxes for your pregnant friends, and for Goodwill).
Here are just a couple of things:
First and foremost, you get your boobs back!! YAY!! (You know what I mean if you’ve been nursing.)
Second: The girls stop wearing each other’s hand-me-downs without complaint, and start demanding their own clothes. In styles the other one wouldn’t be caught dead in. (Increase the credit limit on your cards, if necessary.)
Third: You start running around in twelve different directions before and after school. Husband helps but – cliche warning – women are the masters of multi-taking (see below) and men are woefully deficient.
Fourth: If you thought you could (kind of) multi-task when the kids were babies, you will discover that you are now absolutely the most amazing, talented, talented, strongest beast in the multi-tasking universe – ever. Until you collapse of exhaustion when nobody’s watching (like at 4:30 am on a Tuesday). Still, three hours later, after two hours of sleep, you’re at it again.
***
Hmmm….How far out in time do I go? Let’s just stop when they turn 9 or 10. Because then, until they turn 15 or so, girls are just plain awful. You will want them to speak to you even less than they are, which isn’t much to begin with. The only thing that kept me going was remembering that I was even WORSE (minus the Internet and cell phones and iPods) when I was that age — Far worse…..!
This is going to sound so odd, but I felt the same way when Paige decided she was ready to use the potty. She did it on her own, and before we knew it we were saying goodbye to diapers for good… and I was honestly a little sad. She’s our last, and going potty is definitely something that babies don’t do
so it was all sort of crazy and sad, while at the same time we were thrilled that she was doing it on her own.
Lucky for you, there’s a new little one coming!
(both kids hated their cribs, so they were in toddler beds around the time they were one… )
I have three daughters. . . and I adore their relationships with each other as well as the impact it has on our time as a family. My first is strong and brave in every obvious way, middle girl has been slower to show her bravery but quicker to climb out of her crib and potty train (and keep us entertained), and baby girl was fast on the outside indicators of growing up because she wants to keep up with her hero sisters. However, in ways of the heart, she is tender. I am now finding out what happens when there is no one else to pop into the crib. You embrace your new season of joy–and when you’re out and about and see another family with little ones you ooh and aah remembering your time and cheering them on in theirs. Life really is beautiful.
We’re looking at moving our baby into a big-girl bed sometime this winter (preparatory to giving the crib, stroller, high chair, etc. to friends who are expecting), and it IS the oddest sensation. I am thrilled to think that more babies will be sleeping in that crib, but to have both my girls in real beds … and when both are potty-trained … well, it will usher in an entirely new era that I find absolutely thrilling and terrifying all at once!
Isn’t that the thing…our children always surprise and do thing we least expect. Often we aren’t ready but they usually are. Doesn’t make it easier, but I do take it as small solace when they are so obviously ready to graduate to the next challenge. It means things are happening the way they should. And I like that, as heartbreaking as it can be.
You ask, What happens when there are no more babies to pop in that crib? What then?… if you’re like me, you cry. We are at the tale-end of a 7-year, 3-girl crib run… and while others may be looking forward to no diapers, cribs, bottles and pacies, I get sad thinking of the day when I don’t have any more babies (and some would say, that day is now as my youngest is almost 2 1/2). Don’t get me wrong – we have our 3 girls and we are DONE. And my brother is having a baby next year and I am so happy that a new baby will be using our well-loved baby things. But when it’s time to pack up the bottles, box up the baby clothes and take that crib apart, just look for a sobbing mommy huddled in the corner. Until then, I will tuck my baby in her crib and pop that paci in her mouth. Growing up is hard.
I think I measured things differently. Because we are family bed people our children slept in our bedroom for years.
But they were flying off high up rocks as mere toddlers. My husband is a climber and we have very little fears in that regard. We measured the end of babyhood when they stopped looking to us to catch them.
then, years later, when they finally migrated out of our spaces…we sighed. They really, truly do grow up. And, of course, I cried. And laughed. And cheered. And cried again.
My youngest is 6.5 going on 30. She is desperate to be a big girl. She got earrings last summer and is begging for makeup. It is not going to happen, but I see time speeding up.
At night she likes to tell me to sit down so that “I can tell her about my day.” Her older brother rolls his eyes at this and asks for me to help him with his geometry and science. Trapezoids and sedimentary rocks are the big discussion.
It is surreal because last week his favorite toy was Thomas the Tank Engine and she was this little baby that fit in one arm and slept on my shoulder.
“Baby, I’m so so proud of you. But if you promise to stop growing up so fast, I’ll let you keep your poppy until you go to college.”
I love this.
I just got back from Pottery Barn Kids to look at “big girl furniture” and it made me sad, too!
If you think about it this way, she was transitioning to make room for the baby. Imagine trying to fight her to get the crib in another 6 months. It’s bittersweet when your kids get bigger and more independent. You want it for them, but you’ll miss them as babies. Yet, they become more and more amazing as time goes on. I love that both my kids talk in full sentences and have conversations with me. I also miss seeing them wear the little outfits from their baby/toddler days.
Beautiful and honest post. I am not a mom but I know all too well how fast Babies become Toddlers and Toddlers become Kindergarteners and so forth. Time flies and you want to grasp every minute of it but you can’t.
But in a way, you are. Your blog is better than any photo album or scrapbook — your blog is (in my opinion) the best gift any mother could give her children. You are giving them moments, memories, frozen snapshots in words.
My kids are too short to grow up. I’m kinda serious–they are at the bottom of the charts in everything, so even when I think about transitioning Emily into a toddler bed, it seems so weird. She fits very comfortably in her little crib!