Monday, June 29, 2009

Operation Big Girl Bed

I am a worrier. I can worry about just about anything. I am also a pessimist. The combination of those two things are generally a very bad thing.

For example: I need a hair cut. For most people they would just call their salon, and set up the appointment. I, on the other hand, have been having the following internal conversation with myself.... for months.

Rational (not so crazy) Me: Maureen, you need a hair cut.
Worrier Me: Do you think other people think I need a hair cut?
Pessimist Me: No one has even noticed.
Rational Me: Ok now you two, the fact still remains that I need a hair cut.
Worrier Me: I agree that a hair cut would be nice, but do you have the time to get your hair cut?
Pessimist Me: Of course not. You never have enough time to do ANYTHING let alone get a hair cut.
Worrier Me: And can you afford to get a hair cut? You haven't taught a class in almost two months.
Pessimist Me: Even if you did get a hair cut there is a chance you might not like it and that is a waste.
Worrier Me: They are all going to laugh at me.
Rational Me: SHUT UP!

You think I'm crazy yet? I do.

But this post isn't suppose to be about me. It is about Madeline growing up and me thinking the apocalypse is coming.

Last week we said good bye to the crib and put Madeline into her very own big girl bed.

This crib was Kevin's as a baby and I slept in one almost identical to it as a baby. This crib has been good to us. Madeline started sleeping through the night at 8 weeks in this crib. She has only tried to climb out of it once and she is really very content. Worrier Me says, why mess with a good thing.

But now that #2 is on its way the choice was made to put the baby bed away. So last Wednesday, after one last night of sleep in her crib Madeline was sent to play at Maw Maw and Paw Paw's house and the big girl bed fairies went to work.

What did I expect? I expected to be chasing Madeline back to bed all night long. I expected to be up all night with a sad baby girl who just wanted her crib. I expected to be exhausted on Thursday because it had taken her half the night to fall asleep.

Instead Madeline slept through the night. Then took a 2 hour nap on Thursday, slept through the night again and took a 3 hour nap on Friday. Not a single problem. She even calls for us to get her out of bed still. That's right. She could get out of bed on her own and pull every book off her bookshelf and spread wet wipes to all four corners of her bedroom. Instead she calls to us to come get her out of bed.

Never before have Worried Me and Pessimist Me been more wrong.



Molly said...

I love it when they're wrong!

And I'm sorry I passed the worry gene on to you. I guess I'm sorry I passed the pessimist gene on to you, too... but I refuse to acknowledge that I'm a pessimist.

Ok, I'm a pessimist. It goes hand in hand with worry.

I'm sorry.

Michelle said...

I have the worry gene in abundance. One time I told B all of the things I was worrying about at one time and he told me no wonder I'm tired all the time...he was exhausted just listening to my worries. And so glad the big girl bed was an easy transition...I'm holding out hope that somewhere down the line this sleep thing gets easier.

Gina said...

I am so glad that I am not the only person who has those internal debates! I am a worrier too. I am consciously working on it, though. L did so much better with his big boy bed than I expected too...but not as well as your angel! WOW!

bridget said...

Mo...I was going to mention where your worry/pessimist gene came from, but she beat me to it! You need to take a lesson from me...relax...chill...why worry about things that may never happen? It's a big waste of time! Time that could be better spent getting a haircut!


Bridget, shut the f#%k up!

bridget said...

If you check out your brother's twitter account (is that what it's called?) you will find that he tweeted (is that what it's called?) that he is drowning in pessimism...I wonder where he gets that?!!

Molly said...

OMG Bridget's twittering?

I'm with NE... shut the frick up. She just doesn't get it.

bridget said...

No, I am not twittering (is that what you call it?). I am just trying to show support for your son, who apparently has forsaken blogging for twittering. I am not twittering, I am reading what your son has to say...

Sorry, Mo, I know these are not the kinds of comments you are looking for!