Free at Last! The Baby Moves Out, Mom and Dad Move OnMeredith Carroll
It took nearly 11 months, but my room is now a Peony-free zone.
It’s not as if I didn’t love my darling little girl sleeping three inches from my face. It’s just that she was sleeping three inches from my face.
It meant I was denied access to my room during twice-daily naps. It meant I had to proceed with caution with light and noise at night when she was asleep. It meant she could wake up at 4:30 in the morning and expect to be fed because she knew I was there. I know she knew this because she would get her cute little face right up against the bars of her crib, whimper and stare at me until I was guilted into picking her up and nursing her.
That all changed on Saturday when she moved out.
When my older daughter Petunia, 3, was born, she stayed in a bassinet in our room until she was about four months old, at which time we moved her into her own room. But since Peony and Petunia are sharing a room, we just couldn’t bring ourselves to move them in together so soon. Mostly because we were fairly certain Petunia would kill Peony.
It’s not that the fear has passed entirely, but Peony’s crib mattress is now on the lowest level, which would make it a little harder for Petunia to climb in and stab her. Plus, we bought Petunia a Disney princess scooter for being such a good room-sharer, and since we’re convinced she likes it a lot, we’re hopeful she won’t do anything to merit us taking it away.
At some point I was concerned Peony might be in our room until her wedding night, at which point we would have probably had to get a queen-size futon for her and her husband to sleep on. But we just came back from a few weeks at my parents house, and the girls slept in the same room there without much incident (unless you count Petunia sweetly putting a pillow, blanket and bucketful of toys in Peony’s portable crib because she thought she was cold and wanted something to play with).
Sure, we had to go in there a few times and tell the girls to stop giggling or tell Petunia to stop putting on a puppet show for Peony at full volume. And when Peony woke up wanting to be nursed at some ungodly hour one night, Petunia wasn’t thrilled that her sister’s method of requesting milk was shrieking. But it fine was enough to tell us that they’ll work it out. Or at least Peony will grow big enough to fight back.
And so far they have. Not only have they co-existed just fine, they’ve done their fair share of giggling (or playing gin rummy, as my husband calls it), and we know to take Peony out of the room at 5:30 a.m. when she indicates she’s ready to eat so she doesn’t wake up Petunia.
Me? I don’t even know what to do with all the space next to me bed. I feel like we have an extra room in the house it’s so spacious. I thought I might miss Peony when she moved out, but it just makes me look forward to greeting her each morning that much more.
Photo credits: Meredith Carroll
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