Onto the next.

Last night I tucked this sweet 4 year old boy into his toddler bed for the very last time.

Because this weekend, he and his sister are going to Grammi and Poppi's house while Joe and I work like the surprise elves we are to completely transform his room into a "big boy" space for his 5th birthday (which is on Tuesday. Hold me.).

He's been clear for about the last 4 months that all he wants for his birthday is a bunk bed (with steps, not a ladder) and train sheets (not Thomas though, because he's for babies). He's specific, if nothing else? He also wants light blue paint for the walls and a unicorn. I'm not kidding with that last part. 

So, Joe and I will spend the weekend transforming his lair to meet his little boy dreams. I've got sheets and train fatheads and paint and baskets and a whiteboard (more on that later) hoarded in our closet, just ready to be on display. The bed is being delivered on Sunday and cheese willing, the room will be painted and ready for it all to be assembled. It will be so fun...but a little, tiny piece of me was so very sad last night as I tucked those wittle toes that are tipping off the edge of that too-small race car bed in for the last time. I suppose the bright side is that he'll look SO much littler in the full bed that's coming.

And my point in all of this is that if you have a steady hand and an extra paintbrush, we'll have beer and pizza at the ready. See you Saturday?