my little big boy

Write this date down.  Last night Aaron slept in a big boy bed for the entire night.  On his first try.  Which would be an accomplishment, except it really feels like he's trying to emotionally slay me.

To fill you in, basically, we knew we were going to have to "transition" Aaron into a big boy bed sometime before the new baby arrives, since we're not buying another crib.  We chose to go with a toddler bed, bought it a few months ago and it's been hanging out in the basement since then, waiting for a new mattress.  Isaac's mom sent us the new mattress this week (Thank you Dee Dee!) and we opened it up last night.  

Being me, I obsessively carefully overthought fashioned this long range master plan, based on all of the stories we've heard from parents who have already gone through this transition.  Our plan was to set the new bed up in Aaron's room for the next few weeks, alongside the crib, so he could get used to the idea of it without feeling any pressure to sleep in it right away.  Then I thought we could slowly start taking naps in it, and hopefully transition to spending the night there over Christmas break.  We chose Christmas break because we figured there would be a few long nights of transition, and so it would be better to do it when we (read:Isaac) didn't have anywhere to be early in the morning.  Long range, well thought out plan, eh?  I thought so too.

Turns out Aaron had a plan too.  His plan : Sleep in big boy bed.

Cut to last night.  We set up the bed in his room, he climbed right up and pretended to snore.  Then, he and Isaac read some bedtime books in his new bed after which he laid down and went to sleep.  And stayed in there until this morning.

Oh, okay.  Speed warp to being a big boy, why don't you?  

True confession: When I went in to his room to check on him before I went to bed, he was sleeping in his big boy bed and looking like a teenager.  My life flashed before my eyes.  And I cried.  Let's blame pregnancy hormones, okay?  But seriously, why is my baby totally okay with being a big boy?  Stop it right this instant, mister! 

I should mention this is the same kid that, two weeks before his second birthday, handed Isaac his pacifier at bedtime and said "No Binky."  And never took one again.  I didn't even have a plan for that transition!  I wasn't ready!  As you can see, I'm not really over that yet.

Moral of this long, drawn out story:  Transitions are for Mommy, not baby.  Apparently Aaron is just fine with change.  

And a necessary disclaimer:  I fully expect potty training to be the epic battle of my parenting career.  It seems only fair.