“Oh Dear” and the Big Boy Bed

Dear Hayden,

Mommy remembered how to type! Will wonders never cease? Remember that time when I promised I’d chronicle your milestones in a letter each and every month, so you could look back on them and be embarrassed for the both of us? Well. Turns out that with a toddler, one doesn’t have an abundance of time to chronicle or blog or apply deodorant or what have you. So I present to you this “multi-month newsletter” and hope that you’ll forgive me for slacking and take it with a grain of salt. Or MULTIPLE grains of salt, like the rim of my margarita that I’m using as a “writing aid”.

Months 20, 21 and 22 were insane. You started conjugating verbs. You started using selective hearing, ignoring your Dad and I when we called your name for the umpteenth time, but catching (and repeating) the cuss words that I mutter a house-length away when I step on one of your million Hot Wheels. You REMEMBER those swears, too, unfortunately. They’re nothing I can discuss in this blog post (I know – SHOCKING) but that glint in your baby blues tells me that your cognizant of the fact that you’re definitely NOT supposed to be saying them. Sigh. Mommy needs a Swear Jar. You’ll probably be able to buy that tricycle by next Wednesday.

So, a couple of months ago, you began to sound like a sweet little ol’ Octogenarian. I’m not sure WHERE you heard it, but every time ANYTHING HAPPENED, you would exclaim “Oh dear!” Fell down and hurt your knee? Sure, I can understand an “Oh dear”. Old unkempt man in line at Wal-Mart getting in your personal space? I’d probably say “Oh dear”, too. But me asking if you’d like grape or cherry Kool-Aid? Not sure that’s “Oh dear” worthy. Other such examples would include the cat running too fast, mommy going to the bathroom by herself, or daddy flipping to the sports highlights for a nanosecond. Because THAT would mean that Thomas The Tank Engine isn’t on anymore, right? OH DEAR.

Month 21 was a bittersweet one for Mommy – the month you started sleeping in your “Big Boy Bed”. We knew it was time, as you weren’t sleeping well in your crib. There just wasn’t enough room in there for you and all your limbs! So, one night, instead of putting you in your crib, we continued on your nightly routine and went into your room. “Do you want to sleep in your Big Boy Bed tonight, Hayden”, I asked, expecting an “Oh dear!” Your response floored me: “Okay.” So I plopped you down on the comfy twin mattress, gave you Elmo and your drink and kissed you goodnight. And you stayed in that bed the WHOLE DAMN NIGHT. Mommy, you have just been granted the resumption of 8-hour sleeps. It only took 21 months, but it was worth every fitfully-slept night.

The crib is gone, and my boy has grown into such a delight to be around. He’s always trying to make people laugh and is constantly uttering things like “Mommy’s cute!” or “I love you, toooooo!” (Especially when ice cream is involved.) So I had to cram 3 months of newsletters and blogging into one post. So what? Playing Hot Wheels with you for the majority of those 3 months was SO worth it.

Love,

Mom

Allison Empey is a 29-year-old medical transcriptionist from Ontario, Canada. She is happily married since 2006 and is having an obscene amount of fun being a mom to her 17-month-old son, Hayden. Allison is an avid amateur photographer with a penchant for portraiture. She loves to write, and to make people laugh, and has combined the two passions by regularly updating her blog. Allison’s other loves? Reading, board games, medicine, cheesecake and wine.

Check out Allison’s websites: www.flickr.com/allygalore for photos, www.galore.tumblr.com for hilarious (and modest) blog, and www.twitter.com/AllyEmpey to follow her on Twitter!