To everything there is a season...

...and a time to every purpose under heaven. This has always been in my top ten of favorite scriptures. I once had a seminary teacher tell me that we experience stress when we refuse to accept this. Well, we've come to an end of one of our seasons.

Between the recent crib recall, and the fact that we've come into Kali's room more than once and found her perched precariously on the edge of the rail, we decided to take the leap to a toddler bed. Thus initiating the end to our crib days. We have had a baby in the crib for the last eleven of our thirteen years that we've been married. All five of our kids were born in the same hospital, in the same room, and slept in the same crib. So, while the men reading this may not understand my sentimentality in writing this, I hope my fellow mothers will. Ironically, the same day I took down our well worn crib (one side wouldn't even stay up, and we had a nails holding in a post or two) I received an email from another mom with the same feelings. She really summed up how I felt.

"There in my nursery is that beautiful crib, with its bumpers and ruffles, sweet lambs and fuzzy bunnies. I know every tune the darling bluebird mobile plays, in order, forwards and backwards. Etched into my mind are my darling babies, standing at the rail with drowsy eyes and static-straight hair, smiling as I enter the room. So, I admit to a few tears. There is something so solid and iconic about a crib in a nursery. It's almost a rite of passage--like a wedding gown, or your first car. A crib is a sign to everyone that life's most miraculous event is happening. It's safe and certain and it is there for such a brief period of time--like babies who grow into little people entirely too fast."

Friday I took down the crib as quickly as I could, and tried not to focus upon what I was doing. I easily coaxed all five kids into the crib for one last sentimental picture for me.

Unfortunately the crib is in too poor of a condition to pass on to future generations. Had I known then what I know now I would have bought an expensive, sturdy crib. But who would have known in 1997 that it would hold the precious cargo that it did.

So, now we move onto the next season of our lives. Kali is thrilled to be in a "big girl bed", even though we have to convince her to stay in it. And while not necessarily thrilled to move on myself, I look forward to another handful of firsts - first make up, first drivers licenses, first dates, first loves, first heart breaks.

Then again, maybe I'll go have a good cry before moving on...