Hayden fought off a little cold this week. Between that and all the excitement of having his grandparents and Aunt Jasmine here to play with him (read: fawn over his every move, as we all should), he’s had a little trouble sleeping.
When we finally broke down and got him to sleep through the night (in February), we had to let him cry it out. For three weeks. Ryan was afraid we were starting over again with that. He went in to comfort him Tuesday night and Hayden quieted as soon as his daddy picked him up—but began wailing as soon as he was laid in bed.
Wednesday night, I was fighting off the same cold (still am :() and had just gotten to bed (late again, sigh) when Hayden began to cry. As I debated whether to get up or not, his cries grew louder. After a few minutes, I knew I had to get up, especially since my parents were trying to sleep in the room next to his.
I put on my robe and went into his room. I gathered him into my arms and rocked him. Slinging one arm around my neck, Hayden quickly quieted down and snuggled into my shoulder. I could hear him sniffling and speculated that he was having trouble breathing laying down. (He insists on sleeping face down, silly boy.)
I sat down on the floor of his room and rocked him gently. Although he was completely asleep, Hayden still clung to my neck. I couldn’t help but give him tons of kisses.
I held him for ten or fifteen minutes, just to make sure that he got some undisturbed sleep, before gently laying him back in his crib.
No matter how well or how poorly my week is going, a reminder like that is one I can always use.