Not a creature was stirring...

I moved Miss L out of our room and into the nursery for the first time tonight. 

I know, I know, I know...at seven months old, it's an overdue change in our house and I have no one to blame but myself.  Since she was born, L's been a perfect angel at night - has slept through the night consistently since 9 weeks old, isn't easily woken by my husband's incessant snoring, doesn't cry when she wakes up, etc.  It's just ME that hasn't been ready for the switch. 

From the second we brought her home, she's been within arms length at night and frankly, I liked it that way.  I could reach over as many times as I wanted to feel her breathe, I could hear every single little peep, I could adjust her blanket or push her pacifier into her reach.  I liked having my "most importants" within inches of me each night - all of us huddled in the same room. 

She's been napping in the nursery for several months now, as I wanted her to be comfortable in her bed and grow used to sleeping outside of our room.  She took everything like a champ from the beginning and frankly, has no trouble falling asleep most anywhere.  (How lucky are we?!)  So long story short, this little move has been a long time coming. 

So is this what letting go (on a small scale, that is) feels like? (If so, I better start figuring out how I'll make it through the next 18 years!)  If there's anything I've come to find thus far in my life as a mother, it is that parenting is such a growing up, for me, every day.  Even the smallest things can take me out of my comfort zone, but I'm happy that these minor triumphs are molding me into a stronger person for her.  I know I'm totally overthinking this whole sleep arrangement thing.  I know that today it's the nursery, while tomorrow it's her college dorm.  Baby steps, I guess.  (Mine, not hers.)

Off to sleep (with the baby monitor inches from my face on full volume)...

I know.  I'm SO normal.