Yes, the time has come. One of the reasons I kept Rachel at the State Fair so long on Friday was so that Drew could disassemble the crib, a task he thought would take hours and hours but ended up being easier than he expected. We didn't tell Rachel about the bed until she got home, and -- voila! -- there it was. She seemed happy to see it but didn't jump up and down; she has told us for a while now that she wants a bed.
It's a toddler-sized bed, white, that exactly fits the mattress we had for her crib. Our friend Amy gave it to us months ago and we've just been waiting for the right time to introduce Rachel to it.
I had dreaded this day because it means that she's now able to climb out of it in the mornings and wreak all kinds of havoc around the house (starting by barging into our bedroom and waking us up when we need to sleep) but so far she has slept in and woken up at her usual time (8:30 or so on weekends, which is fine by us!). She still yelled out for us this morning, but instead of saying, "Daddy! I need to get up!" It was "Daddy! The sun is out! Time to get up!" It's like having a demanding little alarm clock, which is probably not a completely bad thing -- it gets us out of our bed and doing things on weekends instead of sleeping until 10:30, staggering around the house and then maybe getting our butts in gear by, oh, 2:30 or so. That was our old life, which is completely unrecognizable to me now.
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