When I was pregnant with Oscar, and even after he was born, I didn’t create a nursery for him. We planned to co-sleep for a few months, and then sleep in the same bedroom with Oscar for at least a year (which is now recommended by the American Academy of Pediatrics to reduce the risk of SIDS). Also, we live in a two-story house and sleep in the second floor loft. The other two bedrooms are downstairs. I had no intention of traipsing up and down the stairs in the middle of the night to comfort a wakeful infant.
Although I knew Oscar’s transition to his own room would begin once he was sleeping through the night (which didn’t really happen until he was around fifteen months), the move happened all at once, literally overnight.
One day last week I put Oscar down for a nap in his pack-n-play in my office. I closed the door and within minutes heard some strange noises. I opened the door to see that Oscar had climbed out. Not really believing it, I plopped him back and in and watched him climb out so swiftly and gracefully it was as if he had been doing it his whole life. So I took him upstairs to sleep in his “real” crib, but I spent the whole time fretting that he might climb out of that, which could mean falling out of the loft (only a widely-spaced wooden railing separates it from the first floor) and being seriously injured or even killed. Knowing we wouldn’t be able to sleep a wink that night, Darin and I decided to immediately move him into my office and move my office upstairs.
Oscar now officially has his own room, after eighteen months. We moved out all of the furniture except for his crib, the glider, his dresser, and some shelves for toys. We are in the process of decorating the room and making it Oscar’s little room at last.
It’s pretty weird not having Oscar near me at night when I’m sleeping. I used to be able to hear him sleeping and I loved it. Now he seems so far away. But I love the way he runs in and out of his room during the day, dragging toys out to the living room. And I love saying his room.
Here is the room in transition. If you look closely, you can see the little prisoner.