You can hardly stand it

Grady's currently 1.5 hours into his new life, that of a kid sleeping in his own regular bed. Really, it only meant taking one side off the crib and swapping bumper and sheet for the Elmo toddler bedding, though it seems like a much bigger step than that. But he's been coming into our bed a lot more lately, and Mike thinks it's because he's getting cold, so he's got a regular sheet and blanket and little pillow and he'll be a lot more comfy this way. Here's hoping this works so that I can get some more sleep and stop being such a crabass.

Unfortunately, this new arrangement means we've had to put a baby gate at the bedroom door. This is annoying the crap out of Evan. He can climb over it, but the injustice at having a baby gate in front of his door is just about more than he can take. There is nothing big boy about this, and he's going to let me know that for the next several days I'm sure. As I type this he's whispering something unintelligible in the dark, probably something about life being so unfair and why him, anyway?

So I'm sitting here, trying not to be anxious about Grady falling out of bed and feeling the hives popping up on my face anyway. I wasn't ready for this transition already, minor as it may seem to everyone else. Every step G takes moves him further from the baby he was and closer to the boy he's becoming. I'm not sure I want to give up that baby just yet.