We knew it was time. Our daughter had begun banging herself into the sides of the crib. Then one morning, she cried that she wanted to pee in the potty but had to pee in her diaper because she was stuck in the crib. Baby needed a new bed. Except that pretty much means she's not a baby anymore.

With a relative watching Donna, Maria and I went searching for a toddler bed. I didn't know these things existed. I remember sleeping on the bottom half of a bunk bed, and then on a single metal spring frame. I guess in the last thirty-five years, some changes have been made.

Strangely, there's not as much variety as you think for a toddler bed. You can get the plastic variety with the cartoon of the moment stickered on it (Cars 2 or Toy Story 3), or you can get a little wooden frame that fits your crib mattress. We choose the latter for about a hundred bucks. The cheapies were $70-$90.

Our adventure brought us to four different stores before finding one in stock, and we brought the frame home to finish the 'some assembly required' phase of buying children's furniture. Anyone who has put together baby furniture knows there is at least one nearly impossible step. The instructions always say stick this into that (without any other explanation). On the toddler bed, you are expected to line up all the wooden sticks in little pegs on one side and then place them into the pegs on the other side. Sounds easy. It's not. After many failed attempts, we finally figured it out, and our toddler bed was assembled.

Our daughter Donna has been enthralled by the bed and the freedom it allows. 'I love my new bed!' No more crib cage. No more calling to mommy and daddy to get her out in the morning. No more diapers. In short, no more baby.

This makes me very proud. Not just because she's growing happy and healthy, but because I actually survived the baby years. I was the third of three boys in my family. I don't have a lot of paternal instincts, especially with babies, but I learned as I went. The first four months of our daughter still go down as the biggest shock of my life. I was both helpless and necessary almost all the time, and I never knew what I was supposed to do.

As time went on, the baby started to move, and I had a better grasp on my role. Keep an eye on the kid. Crawling, stumbling, and walking. I could handle these things. Mumbling, rambling, and talking. I could handle those things too. After the first couple years, the father-baby bond was solid.

Now, no more baby. We have a little girl with a little bed. No more diapers (and so far, no accidents!). Our Donna knows it too. She looks at babies now and says 'I used to be a little bitty baby' and squeezes her fingers together.

She's still learning to talk correctly & count & read & think. She's still way too bossy for her parent's taste. She's still obsessed with Sponge Bob Squarepants. She will always be our baby. Eve though she's not. She's now our little girl.

First stage down, several to go. At least I remember a few things about being three and older. Those baby years were a whole new bag for me, and now they're done. Whew!

Chris Jungle will not miss diapers.