For as long as I can remember, I’ve put my kids to sleep with a “Good night, sleep tight. Don’t let the bed bugs bite.”
Things were going just fine until my oldest son told me this week that he was too big for good night.
Feeling the sting to my heart, I asked him why he felt that way. “Mama, I’m eight years old, you know.”
How did this happen so fast? Like a blink of the eye, the little baby boy I remember bringing home from the hospital is now on a journey to becoming more independent. He doesn’t need my help getting snacks from the shelves anymore. He dresses himself. He travels just fine without us. He has opinions and a sense of humor that is totally his own.
I find myself at that awkward stage where you want them to stay your baby while knowing full well they NEED this stage of independence if they are to be fully functioning adults. The knowing certainly doesn’t make it any easier…which is why for at least one more night, I’ll be sneaking in another “good night, sleep tight.”