Baby Bear Makes His Bed

It was only within the last month or so that Cal got a big-boy bed with a top sheet to be tucked in, two pillows and a warm comforter.  For the first 4-1/4 years of his life, he slept on a crib/toddler-bed-sized mattress about 6 inches off the floor.  This thing needed only a bottom sheet and barely had room for only one pillow.  We just threw a blanket on top of Cal at night as he slept, and this blanket remained wadded up (sometimes folded, if I felt the urge) throughout the day until bedtime the next night.

Cal’s big-boy bed is BIG.  My feet don’t even come close to hitting the ground when I sit on it.  When he first got it, Cal needed a stool to get onto it.  Now he’s learned he can just step on the bedframe and pull himself up.

This morning, Cal watched me make my bed, something I do every day.  I’m not sure why he took particular interest in it today – I’m certain he’s seen me do this before.  Anyway, he asked me, “what are you doing?”

“Making my bed,” I replied.

“Why?” he asked.

“Because I like to have a made bed and get into a made bed at night,” I told him.

“I’m going to make my bed,” he then said and darted off to his room.

A few minutes later I heard him yell, “Mommy, come see my bed!”

I, of course, obliged immediately.  On many occasions, my kids have presented me with an “accomplishment” so very ordinary or, frankly, unimpressive that I find myself having to dig really deep to muster an enthusiastic, prideful response to them.  This… this self-initiated bed-making feat could be something worthy of my sincere pride in his real accomplishment.  Even better, I had a captive audience at that moment – my kid was interested in and taking initiative to make his bed himself.  I had to jump on this good-habit-making, independence-building moment.

I walked into his room to find him standing on the side of his bed, and Dan and Ella standing at the foot of it.  Cal looked at me, proud smile plastered across his face, “See, Mommy.”

What I saw really was impressive.  Notre Dame comforter pulled up relatively straight and wrinkle-free.  Notre Dame-trimmed pillows neatly placed at the headboard.  I don't know if Dan helped him in any way and didn't ask.

“That IS really good, Cal!  I am SO PROUD of you!”  I said with tons of excitement and pride, all genuine.

He left his room, and I peeked under the comforter, not at all to judge but just to know.  Under his comforter, his top sheet was pulled up most of the way and a little cockeyed, I’m sure as best as he could do given his little reach.  I gave his sheets a whiff, and they smelled a little of urine (he’s in an Underjam at night and often pees through it) and needed to be washed.  But not at that moment.  That would come later after he was gone to school.  At that moment, his bed needed to stay made.