Over the weekend we moved Bruiser from his crib to a toddler bed. That means I no longer have any crib-dwellers. This is a first in over 6 years. Being that Bruiser has never been one to seek parental approval or obey rules when no one is watching, I was sure that he’d interpret the toddler bed as his own personal release from prison. FREEDOM! I was sure he’d be roaming the halls, endlessly looking for opportunities to postpone bedtime.

I was wrong. We bought a firetruck toddler bed at consignment, and when we brought it home he ‘helped’ me clean it. Once it was assembled in his room, he brought a blanket, gathered his many, many, many lovies, and climbed in. He’s loved it ever since. And he asks permission to get out of it. Now, I’m no fool. I realize that the time will come when he does start to push the limits. But it isn’t here yet.

This morning we had to wake him up for preschool. Hubbs entered the room, watched him snuggle deeper into his blanket, and then gently called out Bruiser’s name. An annoyed “what?” was the response, followed by “it’s not morning yet!” My early riser has learned to sleep in. It’s a beautiful thing.


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