I still remember it like it was yesterday.
Sunday afternoon, Vikings game on.
Noah and I lounging on the couch, half napping, half watching.
We heard a chortle. It was too close.
Yes, Deacon had climbed out of his crib and come downstairs.
He was only about 20 months old.
After that, there was no stopping that boy. Naps were done.
Trying to keep him in bed was too hard.
He is 8 now and still needs minimal sleep.
Then came Roman.
He also was climbing out of his crib long before he was 2.
Then Lincoln was over that edge.
None of the boys could talk, but boy could they climb.
But Berean passed 2 without making any attempts to get out of her crib.
We knew the day was coming when she would realize that she could do it.
she climbs up stairs, slides and rock walls. She has been known to climb on counters and chairs.
That crib is within her skill set.
And yet she never did it.
Until Saturday night. On Saturday night we had a babysitter. The boys got popsicles after Bre went to bed. Only thing is, she apparently wasn't asleep yet and overheard the popsicle consumption.
Boy was she angry.
She was so angry that she managed to heave her 25 lb self over the side of the crib and masterfully reach the ground.
And then she went to get her popsicle.
And now she shows up in our room when she needs to pee, when she gets a bloody nose or when morning has come.
It is bittersweet.
This morning she came into our room and she looked so happy. She rambled on about a story that I didn't understand. At the end she said, "I happy".
I asked her if she was happy that she could get out of her bed. She said, "yes".
P.S. Berean calls marshmallows "arsh mo mos". Her cousins Alethea and Lydia are "Hi-ya" and "Hi-ya".