Why I Built My Son a Solid Wood Toddler Bed (and What It Taught Me About Life, Love, and Messes)
As parents, we all want the best for our kids—but what is the best, really? Is it the most practical choice? The cheapest? The easiest? Or is it sometimes the little, less obvious choices that leave the deepest mark? 🪵💛
In this post, I want to share a story with you about a simple toddler bed I made for my little boy and the unexpected life lessons it ended up teaching me. I’ll talk about the criticism I faced, what I learned about making mistakes, the power of quality—both in things and relationships—and how it all helped me change the way I show love and grace to my kids (and myself).
This isn’t just a story about a bed. It’s a story about living, messing up, starting again, and learning to love in the process.
When I Decided to Build a Bed…
When I first decided to build my little boy a solid wood toddler bed, I thought it was a simple choice. Just a little project to make something special for him. But when I started telling people about it, you’d think I said I was building him a solid gold throne! 😂
I heard a lot of comments like:
- “Why would you waste such expensive wood on a toddler bed?”
- “You know he’s just going to color on it and ruin it, right?”
- “You should just get something cheap for him.”
At the time, I kind of shrugged it off, but those words stuck with me. I kept turning them over in my head. Why was I doing it? Was it impractical? Was I being silly?
And then I realized—no, I wasn’t. Deep down, I just wanted my little boy to know that he was worth it. Worth the good wood, worth my time, worth the extra effort. That was the real reason. ❤️
Lesson 1: Life is Meant to Be Lived (and Colored On)
One thing I knew for sure was that I didn’t want a home where my kids were afraid to live. I wanted them to feel safe enough to try, to fail, to create, and yes, to make messes.
Sure enough, not long after I finished the bed, my little boy took a crayon to it like it was a blank canvas. 😅 But you know what? That solid wood bed? It could be sanded down and made good as new. No big deal.
That bed reminds me every day that life is meant to be lived in, marked up, and sometimes a little messy. And isn’t that exactly what we want for our kids? To be free to try, to fail, and to start again?
That’s life. Trying, messing up, and then picking ourselves up and giving it another go. 💪✨
Lesson 2: Quality Over Quantity (In Both Things and People)
The bed also taught me a lot about the value of quality.
Quality means you can use it, enjoy it, and when it gets dinged up? You fix it. You don’t throw it away. You don’t give up on it.
That lesson doesn’t just apply to furniture—it applies to people too.
I’ve learned that the most meaningful relationships I have are the ones built on quality, not quantity. Real, honest, and sometimes hard conversations. People who see you at your worst and don’t run away. Relationships like that might get scratched or scuffed from time to time, but they can be repaired, just like that little bed. They can even come back stronger and more beautiful than before.
For me, a few close friends who stick through the tough times have been worth far more than a hundred surface-level acquaintances.
Invest in the good wood. In furniture and in people. 🌳❤️
Lesson 3: Reframing Mistakes (Especially Theirs… and Ours)
I’ll never forget the first time I walked into my son’s room and saw him happily coloring on his bed. And I’ll be honest, part of me panicked. 😳
But then I thought—what would’ve happened if I had bought a cheap bed that couldn’t be fixed? I know what would’ve happened, because I’ve been there with my older kids. I scrimped and saved to get them the nicest bed I could afford, and when they marked it up, I was upset every time I walked into their room. Not because I didn’t love them—but because I felt like all that sacrifice was “ruined.”
But the truth? They weren’t being ungrateful. They were just kids. Little people, exploring, learning, trying things out.
I had to look inward and ask myself—was I mad because of the bed, or because of a story I was telling myself? The story that they didn’t appreciate it. That they were careless. That I had failed somehow.
The reality? None of that was true. They were just being kids. 💛
This bed gave me the gift of perspective. It gave me the chance to re-examine the stories I was telling myself about parenting, sacrifice, and perfection. It let me choose which stories I wanted to keep and which ones I wanted to gently let go of.
Finding the Beauty in Everyday Acts of Love
This simple little bed, built with love and a bit of stubbornness, taught me so much more than I expected. It reminded me that love isn’t always about grand gestures. Sometimes, it’s in the quiet choices we make:
- Choosing to build instead of buy
- Choosing patience instead of anger
- Choosing to restore instead of replace
If there’s one thing I hope you take away from this, it’s this:
Look for the small, unexpected ways to show your kids they’re deeply loved. Maybe it’s making something with your own two hands. Maybe it’s sitting down and really listening. Maybe it’s letting them make mistakes—and showing them they’re not only still loved but especially loved because of it.
Like that solid wood bed, love isn’t something that needs to be flawless. It just needs to be strong enough to handle a few crayon marks along the way. 🖍️❤️
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