Boys and Bunk Beds

When I was a little girl, my brother, my sister and I all shared a bedroom.  My brother and I had a bunk bed; I had the top bunk.  I can't remember a time before my bunk bed.  I can remember lots of fun times after. 

One night my parents were papering the walls in my room and didn't want the bed up against the wall while the paper dried.  (I think, anyway . . . I can't really explain this to myself any other way!)  Being a roller, I rolled . . . right out of the bed and onto the floor.  I woke up crying, not sure how I got on the floor!  I was then kept awake--no easy feat!--until my parents were sure I hadn't suffered brain damage. 

My other big bunk bed memory is of my brother teaching us girls to jump from my top bunk to my sister's twin bed across the room.  Fortunately the room wasn't very wide, and we never missed . . . though the bruises on our legs from almost missing were enough to make our pediatrician ask my mother some pointed questions. 

With these as my touchstone memories, you may wonder why I love top bunks to this day.  I can't explain it; I just do. 

It is natural, therefore, that I would want a bunk bed for my kids.  (There is also the fact that their room is TINY and would never in a million years fit two twin beds and two dressers.)  We had tabled the bunk bed discussion because Ranita had been dealing with some severe anxiety.  Last week, however, he announced he was ready . . . so Grammy took us out and we bought a bunk bed . . . and scheduled delivery for this upcoming Tuesday. 

This evening, my son called to me long after he should have been asleep.  When I went in to him, he said he loved his toddler bed.  Uh oh.  He didn't want his toddler bed in the barn: it would get dirty.  Oh no.

I assured him I would wrap it up securely and it would remain clean until he grew up and was ready for a full-sized bed, at which time he would have it again.  Not good enough.  He doesn't want to move out of his toddler bed.  (Chinchita, on the other hand, is happy as a clam to bid farewell to her crib and get to sleep in a "big girl princess bed."  Kids!)

For a split second I was tempted to hold my head in my hands and scream in frustration, but I didn't.  Instead, I took a quick look at the room and estimated space.  His toddler bed is pretty low-profile, so I think we can fit both the new bed and the crib in the room if we don't expect to have any play space between the two.  I told him I would try that and he could stay in his toddler bed til he was ready for the bunk bed.  Good grief. 

I can guarantee you that my parents would NOT have handled this situation in this way.  I can hear my father now: You wanted the big kid bed.  You got the big kid bed.  Now you're going to sleep in the big kid bed whether you like it or not. 

Part of me wants to do it that way, to just get the beds switched, already.  We've been wrangling over this foolish bed for over 6 months now. 

The other part of me, the part I'm going to listen to, says that the bed isn't the issue.  Security is.  I have a little boy navigating a divorce, just returned from his first extended sleepover, looking ahead to a family trip to Maine (when he realizes we're no longer a family), and expecting to start school in a few weeks.  (I'm excited and nervous, Mommy.  A little nervous and a lot excited.) 

So, we'll keep the toddler bed and somehow find enough room for the bunk bed as well.  Worst case scenario I move some kids furniture into the living room where the turtle tank used to sit.  Not optimal, but what is optimal anyway? 

If it gives my little boy a sense of safety and security and continuity in this time of instability and change, it'll be worth it.