We’ve measured the Girl with her beds all her life.
From the strange, transparent bassinet of the hospital to her latest upgrade, L’s bed has served as a constant against which to measure her growth.
For most of her life, she’s had the same crib, though. In the early days, the mattress was high: she couldn’t move about, so there was no danger, and it put her within easy reach. She soon outgrew it, though: as soon as she began rolling around and pulling herself up, we had to lower the springs that suspended the mattress.
But it seemed like she was able to crawl out of it almost instantly. We began thinking about changing it to a day bed, but we never quite made it. Instead, we jumped straight to the full.
“You’ll have a new bed when you get home,” K told the Girl as she took her to Nana and Papa’s house today. We were eager to see her reaction: would she be frightened (L doesn’t like changes) or thrilled?
The response:
squeals and shrieks.
The next test: would she like the bedding selections? After all, there was not a single princess to be seen.
But there were flowers — almost as good.
There was little left to do but practice snoring in the big bed.