I Threw Away My Bed After My Son Fell Out Of His Crib

And now I sleep on the floor like a college kid again

Photo by Marie Despeyroux on Unsplash

It all comes full circle.

When I was 23, I lived with my boyfriend at the time. We had a bed on the floor. It sucked and I hated it.

So why am I doing it again?

Because I’m firm in my convictions, aka stubborn, aka scared.

Last week, my son jumped out of his crib.

I think he thinks he can fly!

He put his leg over the side of the railing, teasing me. He knows it freaks me out when he does that.

Every time, I get very serious and say, “Please don’t do that, you’re going to get hurt!” Sometimes I yell it. I go over to the crib and then remove him from it, explaining that if he does that, he will fall and bump his head and it will hurt. He smiles and laughs with the oblivious delight of a carefree child. But it’s been a fear of mine, one of the ones that lurks in the back of my mind and haunts my pre-sleeping moments.

He won’t really do it, will he? I think as I’m about to drift off, my eyes popping open into the dark as I imagine the worst, which is where my overanxious mind always tends to go.