So we put him in a big boy bed last night. I don’t know if that’s what it’s really called, I guess it’s just called a bed. But I talk to a 22 month old all day, so my adult vocabulary is non existent. I’m afraid when I go back to work and have to ask an art director to save out some PSDs I’m going to talk to them like they’re 2; “hey little guy!! Wanna come help me with a special special little project?!? I’ll give you a cookie if you do a good job!!”. Which actually might be a good thing now that i think about it.
So it’s 9am and he’s still asleep. I want to attribute this to his comfiness in his bed, but I won’t. Because I just jinxed the shit out of it, and i know tomorrow he’s not even going to sleep in it. I remember when he was 5 months old and we put him in a crib for the first time, I slept in a chair in his room the whole night, just in case. In case of what? No idea. And by “slept in a chair” I mean sat in a chair for 8 hours awake panicking. I’m pleased with myself for not going in his room last night, although even though he’s almost 2 I still have mom panic in “why is he still sleeping? Is he breathing??” it’s been 13 hours of sleep now. SIDS isn’t possible anymore, I think? Ok, just turned up the monitor to hear him breathing. And this paragraph right here fully explains what it’s like to be in the brain of a SAHM who has nothing else to think about all day. I have no doubt when he’s 8 years old, I will still be wanting to go in his room and make sure he’s ok in his real bed. AND even more so when he’s 20 and has a girl over who I’m about to go kick out of the house. In fact, I’m going to keep that baby monitor in his room forever. Just in case.