Naptime Is the New Happy Hour by Stefanie Wilder-Taylor

Naptime Is the New Happy Hour by Stefanie Wilder-Taylor

Author:Stefanie Wilder-Taylor
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Gallery Books


Movin’ On Up to the Big Bed

When my daughter was about two years old and change, it dawned on me that having conversations with someone who spoke in complete sentences through the bars of a crib was getting a little ridiculous—she was three feet tall and could almost tell a knock-knock joke. Could it be time for a real bed? But moving to a grown-up bed seemed so drastic. What would stop her from just getting up anytime she didn’t feel like taking a nap, which was every day? It seemed way too early for her to have that kind of freedom. On the other hand, it would be nice not to have to go get her if she was thirsty or had a bad dream. It would save me a whole three steps across the hall. Why exercise if you don’t have to?

I’ll be honest, for all my decision-making bravado, I’m not above asking a more seasoned mom for guidance on these topics. The problem is, most answers you get when you solicit advice are all over the place. At a group playdate I put the “when to move to a big bed” question out to the other mothers, sat back, and waited for enlightenment.

One mom told me with great authority that unless my child was climbing out of her crib and endangering herself, I should go ahead and keep her in there as long as possible. What does that mean? I wondered. “As long as possible” seemed a bit vague. Until she enters grade school? Gets her learner’s permit? Hires an attorney to sue me for false imprisonment? Another mom had this bit of brilliance: “Go ahead and get her a bed, but put a baby gate on her door so she can’t leave.” Oh good, so now her crib is the size of her bedroom, and if she cries at night I still have to go free her from her pen. A third mom just glared at me like I was asking when my daughter would be old enough to pose for child pornography. “Her own bed? I’m sorry, but I’m the wrong person to ask. Sydney Rose has shared a bed with Mommy and Daddy since she was born and she’s fourteen. I see absolutely no reason to make a child sleep all by themselves. It’s mean!” Oh God, I should’ve known—there’s a die-hard family-bedder in every bunch. At that point I decided to shelve the whole project and wait for divine intervention.

A few months later, after a few friends of mine had purchased their first toddler beds, my husband and I brought up the notion of a big-girl bed to our daughter. She got so excited you’d have thought Dora just popped by for brunch. We had an inkling that the time had come. The next week we headed to Ikea, test-drove a few adorable convertibles (they expand from toddler size to twin), took one home, and my husband attempted to set that sucker up.



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