BGB

Edith is officially in a Big Girl Bed!


Having converted her crib to a toddler bed earlier this spring, I nevertheless welcomed the arrival yesterday of the full-sized twin bed that she inherited from Uncle Peter, along with matching dresser.

In fairness to the moving industry, I have to give Arsenal Van Lines of Norcross, Georgia, major points. Though they began questionably, leaving the slats for the bed behind in Chapel Hill, they then arrived two days earlier than predicted, called ahead twice with advance notice of their arrival and what turned out to be an accurate projected time of arrival, did not require street directions, rapidly unloaded and reassembled everything for us, and--when they discovered they had left the slats--unscrewed the slats from the trundle bed underneath when I proposed it and assembled them in the upper part of the bed. They then refused a tip.

For our part, we purchased a mattress yesterday and let Edith choose her own set of sheets at Linens-n-Things. (Note to those trying to give their preschoolers a modicum of decorating choice while not conceding to a room full of Sponge Bob or Disney: LNT does not carry sheets with any licensed characters.) I thought choosing her sheets would make for an exciting outing, but when it comes to choices Edith is by nature a satisficer: She identifies the first option that meets her criteria and is done, not needing to look further. She picked out a set of unobjectionable rainbow striped sheets thirty seconds after we walked in. I couldn't help peeking around a few more corners, hoping to find perhaps a whole matching comforter, sheets, and throw-rug set that wasn't garish, but my efforts only induced whining. So striped sheets it was.

At the mattress store the clerk knew right away which mattress on clearance she wanted to get out of the way for the newly arrived model, and although I insisted on looking at two or three others as well, in the end I was happy to go with her slightly more expensive but seemingly better quality choice.

So by bedtime we were set. As I anticipated, Edith was very pleased with the big "secret" storage space in the headboard for all her treasures, as I believe Uncle Peter was before her. His first deposit there probably wasn't a Disney princess purse, but it's possible that along with the elected officials of his stuffed animal nation and the Archie comics and Kids' Anti-Nuclear Handbook that used to share the space, the Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle books have made a rotation through the headboard once before. They're there now.

I also was right about how wonderful it would be to lie down next to Edith to read bedtime stories, since folding one's adult self into a toddler bed is something of an ordeal and my disappearing lap is making reading together in the rocking chair less feasible. I didn't anticipate that when Edith and I curled up for mama milk in her bed this morning, we'd be so comfortable that we'd fall back asleep until 10:30 and miss church. (Tom was preaching and had left early.) We'll have to watch that.

Though I was pleased to have the matching dresser, I also hadn't foreseen its benefits other than making Edith's former dresser available for the baby. Unlike her old upright model this one is long and low, such that she can reach all the drawers herself. So last night I let go of my control instincts and let Edith choose which items would go in which drawer. It was flexibility rewarded: This morning the first thing she did was to walk straight over to her dresser, choose socks, underwear, pants, a T-shirt, and a sweatshirt, and put them on unaided. This from a kid we've been chasing around the house with clothes all summer trying not to get irritated with her giggling assertions that she wants to go to daycare naked. She was very proud that she had put on her shirt by herself.

For his part, Tom found the arrival of the Big Girl Bed one of those moments of acute parental wistfulness. After we had reassembled the crib in the baby's room--the mattress back once more at the highest setting--we returned to Edith's room to look again at her new set-up. Tom tried not to tear up. All that space for his little girl. His little Big Girl.

Taking proprietorship of a Big Girl Bed very seriously