On Saturday, I lowered the mattress in Arden's crib. Of course, it hasn't always been Arden's crib. Before Arden, ruby slept there and before ruby, Charlotte. And with each child, I've adjusted the mattress height so that she couldn't reach up and pull the mobile down on her head or stand herself up and climb out on her own. Lowering the mattress has certainly become, for me, a symbol of the passage of time.
Of course, Arden is still a long way from graduating to a “big girl bed” and so I won't start lamenting the end of her baby years yet. That said, I'd be leaving something out if I didn't acknowledge that lowering the crib was a bitter sweet experience. On one side of the coin, it brings me one day closer to that last diaper change, which is the day I have officially designated in my mind as the day that we will be, at least for a brief period, out of the woods. Of course, on the other side of the coin, there is the fact that Arden is hardly a baby anymore. She is a scooting around the floor, insisting on feeding herself, squawking when she doesn't get what she wants, curious about what's around every corner, and recently fascinated by airplanes almost toddler. And the fact that she isn't a baby anymore makes me just a little bit sad.
3 Ginger Snaps 