"I'm a little worried, Momma," he says, his eyes wide. "But I think I'm ready. You got all da spiderwebs out of da room, right?"
We have an extra bedroom upstairs, but it has been used as a little playroom; the kids have been calling it "the relaxing room". Greta and Finn have preferred to sleep in the same room, in twin beds, and more often than not I find them curled up together in the same bed when I go to wake them up in the morning.
Greta has been asking for her own room for a little while now, and so we decided it was time for the relaxing room to morph into Finn's room.
We built him up to it, telling him he could decorate it any way he wants. His choice? "Spongebob and Buddha." We're still working on the Buddha decorations, but yesterday we went out and shopped for Spongebob paraphernalia. He changed his mind at the last minute, and now it's the "Mario Kart and Buddha" room.
As the kids brushed their teeth last night, I brought some of his books and favorite stuffed animals into Finn's room and eavesdropped on their conversation.
"You're going to be fine, Finn," Greta said. "You're five now, and you will start kindergarten soon. It's time."
Finn was silent for a moment. "But I'll miss you, sissy," he replied, solemnly.
"I'll be right across the hall," she said. "If you need anything at all, just call out and I can be there in two seconds."
I stood listening in the hallway, my arms full of stuffed animals, and my heart swelled.
We read a story in Finn's new room, the three of us nestled together. I tucked Finn into his new Mario Kart sheets, and gave him a kiss on the forehead. "Sweet dreams," I whispered.
Greta's eye lit up. "OH!" she said. "That gives me an idea!"
She scurried across the hall to her room, and came back with one of her favorite belongings: a dream catcher Steve brought home from a business trip.
"This will help you if you have bad dreams, Finn," she said. "It's really special to me, so you can borrow it until we can get one for you, too. It totally works."
She hung the dream catcher carefully from a knob on the bedside table next to Finn's bed. "It catches any scary thoughts or bad dreams. So you don't need to worry."
She kissed Finn on the forehead, and he smiled up at her. "Okay," he said, "Thank you, Sissy."
As I tucked Greta into her bed, she gave me a knowing smile. "Do you think he's going to make it all night? Or do you think we'll find him in his old bed in the morning?"
"I don't know," I admitted. "How would you feel if he came into his old bed? Do you want me to tell him not to?"
"NO!" she said, quickly. "I mean, I'm totally okay with it. It feels weird not having him here. Kinda good, but mostly weird."
About half an hour later I tiptoed upstairs to check on them. I heard murmuring coming from behind the door to Finn's room, which was cracked open about an inch.
I peeked in, and saw Greta perched on the side of Finn's bed. Finn's eyes were closed, a little smile played across his face. Greta was rubbing his back and telling him a made-up story.
I tiptoed back downstairs. I was not needed. They were doing fine all on their own.