a good thing?

I did something today that I hoped I'd never have to do. One of those things that's good, but it's bad that it's good because I just plain don't like it. 

I installed a bed rail on Leah's bed. 

Leah's cute, white, quilt-laden bed...now ruined by some dumb hospital-looking apparatus. 

I know it shouldn't be a big deal. But Leah's five. I shouldn't need to put a bed rail on my five year old's bed when she's not a rambunctious sleeper. I had to put it on her bed to keep her safe if she has a seizure. Or if she gets tangled in her sheets and can't safely get out. So I don't have to wake from a deep sleep by a thud coming from the next room. A thud that I know hurts way more than she ever lets on. 

And so I did it. 

Leah, so far, doesn't seem to mind. In fact, she thought it was hilarious to continually climb on the bed this afternoon as I struggled to tuck in the sheets around the new structure. To be honest, I hope she never minds. I hope she is relieved that she doesn't have to worry about falling out of her bed ever again. And I hope she knows I did it because I love her. 

It's a good thing. It is. But I still don't like it.