The scene. A big boy bed and crib in the same room–my son’s room. Do you see anything weird about it? Me either. 

That’s because I am in denial my son is sleeping in a big boy bed–growing up, too quickly. He’s been in his bed for about 6 months, now. But, I don’t want to take the crib out of his room. His crib’s presence is the comforting, visual cue, that he is still a baby. 

He is my baby. He is my youngest. This could be the last time I see a crib in my home. It feels like removing it means I am done; done with the baby phase; done having babies (sniffle). There is somewhere in my Mommy vault of feelings that this breaks my heart. 

But, in this same Mommy vault, I also know that, despite my best efforts, I can’t keep him little, forever. I must move forward, to fully enjoy this phase. Since each phase goes by quickly. It would be unjust and stifling to helicopter parent over him. But, he’ll forever be my baby. 

He was born 3 years ago, today. Happy birthday, my little buddy. He unlocked more love in me than I can express. It’s that love you only get glimmers of, until you are a parent. 

We will celebrate his 3rd birthday with a cake and gifts. But I know, the greatest gift was giving birth to this little guy, 3 years ago, today. 

So, while he no longer is in his crib, and the day will come where the crib is out of his room. He will always be tucked safely within the crib of my heart. Always, my baby.