I knew the day was coming but I couldn't (and still can't, really) seem to let go of the containment that the beloved crib provides. However, tonight I was home with just the little (and one middle) boys and we were snuggled on Ben's big, cozy bed reading Christmas books before bedtime and as I started to carry Jack to his crib he pleaded with me to be able to stay and "duggle" Ben. At those words I turned into a softy and let him stay, with the reminder of, "No talking, right?", "Yeah, wight." And, "No getting up, right?", "Yeah, wight."

And he didn't. He "duggled" in close and went right to sleep. Now, even though Jack is, by far, the oldest kid we've ever still had in a crib, tonight was just a trial run. I really am not mentally ready to let go and let God in the area of Jack getting himself up from bed. But it was sweet nonetheless, and it does give me a little more hope that the eventual transition (which is going to have to come soon, I know) will go better than I've been dreading.

Duggling joy....