SLEEP. GLORIOUS SLEEP. I will never take it for granted again.
Selfishly, I’ll admit that your new sleep-through-the-night skill has made my life easier. But boy, has it changed you as well. (Which of course makes me wonder: did I do you a disservice by not being more disciplined before this?)
The headline is: you now go to sleep in your crib — NOT in my room — at 7pm every night. And you wake up in your crib — NOT in my bed — at 6am every morning. Most nights it’s straight through. Some nights, you wake up briefly onto put yourself right back to sleep in a few minutes.
How did it happen? Well, that’s a post for another day. (But spoiler: yes, we sleep trained and NO I don’t regret it for a moment despite the fact that I swore up and down we’d never do it. Never say never when you’re a mom. First time, second time, tenth time: NEVER SAY NEVER.) It helped a lot that you finally started rolling and we discovered that if you’re on your tummy, you will go and stay to sleep much faster and longer. (That of course means that I’m hovering over you watching you breath every hour.)
You also nap in your crib…most of the time. We had a good run until your third and fourth teeth started popping through and your blissful daytime slumbers turned into 15-minute catnaps. You needed some extra snuggles and your Daddy and I were more than happy to provide them.
On the Daddy front — you are so much happier during the day thanks to your sleep at night, and that has led to you being much sunnier for your poor papa, who loves you beyond words. You still reach for me if I’m in the room and cling to me like a monkey when hands you over, but you have started to light up when he enters the room and laugh when he kisses and tickles you.
And it’s a good thing, since as I write this, you are actually experiencing your first night with Daddy as solo parent. I’m flying to Arizona for a work trip and that means three days apart. I cried all over you before heading to the airport because being away from you and your big sister even for a few hours is hard on me. But I love my job and I know Daddy is more than capable.
We’ve started feeding you solids which has been messy but fun. You make these funny, happy grunts and OOOOOH when we put you in your highchair. I’m not sure how much is making it into your tummy but there’s plenty of time for that.
You have taught me so much in your first six months. And yes, some of those lessons came from trials. While I never ever ever ever ever want you to think you were or are anything but a blessing and absolutely joy to me — to US as a family — I’ll admit that there have been some challenging days in your first half year. You might think, then, that I would be thrilled to be closer to the 1-year mark than to your birth day.
I’m…feeling mixed emotions. You are (probably because NEVER SAY NEVER) our final baby and because of that, I’m experiencing some grief over the lasts we’ve already had and will continue to have. The last time I’ll ever “meet” my baby for the first time. The last time I’ll wash and fold newborn onesies (you’re already in 9-month clothes and so tall that you’re busting out at the seams!). The last time I’ll get that first milk-drunk baby smile.
But I’ve come to realize that for me, the sweet spot, per se, is right around the 9- to 18-month stretch. So I’m looking forward instead of back. I’m excited to see you stand and take your first steps. I can’t wait to hear you say mama. I want so desperately for you to have more meaningful interactions with your sister (and believe me, she’s excited for that too and asks me every day when you’ll be able to sleep in her room and read books with her).
You are my angel. I could look into your blue eyes all day and never get sick of it. I love the feel of your fingers gripping my tricep as if you’ll never let go. Your baby babbles are like music to my ears and not a single day goes by where I don’t feel thankful to be your mama.
Love you, Rooster.