Diamonds and Hot Wheels

I want my little boy to grow up. I want him to go to college, meet a nice girl, learn to buy a diamond, get married, buy a grill, and learn to change a tire. 

But. I don't want him to grow up so fast! Last night he decided he wanted to sleep in his big boy bed. (In the interest of full disclosure, I must say that he has slept in a crib approximately 15 hours in the past 3 years--he sleeps in a twin bed in his nursery. With me.).  He moved out of his nursery last night. 

He made the decision:  he wanted to sleep on his new car quilt with his new car nightlight.  We should move his clothes into his new dresser. He politely offered, "I gonna help you move my change table." We're still working on pooping in the potty, so the change table is a much debated topic these days. 

Convinced that he didn't need his change table (because Mommy can change him on the bed...duh), he helped me move his t-shirts, shorts, and little boy jockey shorts to his new room. Bedtime came, and I hoped he would change his mind. 

I had pictured the perfect goodbye to his baby room. We would read stories in his bed one more time. He would bid goodnight to all of the monkeys who are waving from baby paintings on his walls. He would wear pajamas with feet sewn in.

But, as any mother can tell you, a toddler's plans rarely align with his mommy's. Last night was moving night. He decided it. I respected his decision. He chose his own pajamas--dump truck bottoms and an OSU jersey (that happens to be a size 12 month, just short enough to show some belly button). Who could disagree with this?

He did ask me to rock him. For this, I am grateful. My heart couldn't have handled the shock of my little boy heading to bed on his own. He did ask to read "Llama Llama Red Pajama." He still needed his chocolate milk. And his blankie. And, he wanted me to sleep with him.

So, last night, I slept under a dump truck quilt by the comforting glow of  Lightening McQueen.  This morning, he woke up shaggy haired. He looked around his new room. He grinned, wrapped his arms around my neck, kissed me, told me he loved me, and bounced down the hallway. He's growing up. But, when he asks me if he can go to Wal-Mart and buy a car, I know we're not quite ready to shop for diamonds and a grill yet. And today, I think I'll shop for a Hot Wheels.