Dear Reese,
Your realization that you can easily stand in your crib has destroyed our quiet bedtime routine this week. Suddenly, you are a lot more awake when I put you in your crib. Which means you hate it and cry, and I find myself picking you back up and rocking you, only for us both to realize you’re a little too big to rock comfortably these days. Instead, it’s more like I’m swinging you back and forth, and I hear you laugh in the dark.
You’re still asleep by 7:45 in the end. But the crying and rocking in the dark brings me back to those first three months of bedtime wailing in a way that uncomfortably activates my body. My heart races, and I remind myself it will pass. I sing a lullaby while you squirm in my arms. I lie you back down and you roll over, ready for rest.
Then fifty-two minutes later, you’re awake and screaming, but it only takes a half hug and some pats on the back to get you back to sleep. Maybe I made too much noise while cleaning. We have a condo showing tomorrow, and I wanted to do a few things tonight to get a head start. Having a home show ready with two cats, a baby, and a full-time job is a particular challenge. The nausea and stomach pain that haven’t faded aren’t helping today. But MorMor comes over when we get home and takes out the trash — a big help.
I close my eyes for a moment now and almost fall asleep. Yesterday I went to bed a full hour earlier than usual. I normally scream and cry and fight my way to bedtime, too, little girl. But when you grow up, all that fighting is in your head, and you have to parent yourself to do the right thing for your body. I do this with mixed success. There’s hope for you to do better than me — on the whole, you are a great napper and sleeper.
Love,
Mama