Beatrice has been sleeping in her own room, in her own bed, for over a month now. The transition was earlier and easier than I ever would have imagined. Sometimes I'm in my own bed now looking to my left and I can barely remember the little body that lay next to and on me for 22 months (minus maybe five days that she actually stayed in her crib way back when) ever being there. I also have no comprehension how there was enough room for her. But the time came for a giant leap toward independence. Beatrice decided that, and we went with it. Just like she was the one who decided when to give up her bottle, her diapers, and her milk at night, she made up her mind and never looked back. It was time for us too. That being said, there's no doubt I miss it terribly. But Daddy, who was the first to encourage it AND the first to mention that maybe it was time for it to end, misses it more than he cares to admit. He often sneaks in at naptime, like today. I sometimes complain, afraid he'll give her a mixed message, but he always replies "how long will she want me take a nap with her?" I know he's right, and we have to savor the morsels of babyhood that are left. They are getting fewer and farther between.
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