I think it might be time to switch Nick to a toddler bed, or at least that's what Oscar and my MIL think, and it scares me and hurts my heart a little at the same time. I mean, he's not even 18-months! I'm not ready for this.
I love walking into his room after he wakes up to see him standing there clutching the crib rails. I love lifting him out and having him bury his head in my shoulder where I can sniff his sweet baby smell and cuddle his footsie-clad body. I'm not ready for a little boy who leaps from his bed and runs into my room whenever he feels the urge to be out of bed.
The problem is that his crib can't be dropped any lower (well, I guess it could drop another inch and a half, but we're missing a bolt for the corner on the lowest setting from moving it so much). Nick's can practically hang over the top of the crib now. He has recently started trying to climb out. He did, with some success last week, landing on a couple stuffed animals and his diapered bottom, which surprised him. This morning I walked in and he had one leg over the rail.
I'm worried that he could really hurt himself. I've been doing some research and the average age that most children switch is two, so I have about seven months before we get there. Recommendations for protecting little climbers include those mesh tents to put over the top and blankets or cushions on the floor. This is in addition to dropping the crib as low as it can go, which we can't do.
I'm not ready to let go of my baby. I still want the crib and the bottle and the rocking chair. I know his growing up is inevitable, he reminds every day how quickly he is leaving babyhood behind as he races towards childhood. I just wish it weren't happening so quickly. Even as I adore the child he is becoming, I miss the baby that he was.