Rub
Last night I could not get the pipsqueak to go to sleep. He nursed for a while, and then wanted to nurse some more (“Other side, please”). Then I told him that it was time to sleep. He was still and quiet for a long time, and I thought he must have drifted off to sleep. I curled up, and then I heard this little voice in the darkness: “Rub. Rub feet.”
So I took his little feet and rubbed them and rubbed them. I could see his long lashes resting against his cheek in the darkened room, so I figured he’d closed his eyes and fallen asleep at last. But no....”Rub. Rub.” I rubbed his smooth little back, his round little stomach, his pudgy little knees, his sweet little feet.
The squeaker used to curl up right next to me, nose to nose, with his little hand woven into my hair and his tiny toes against my leg. Cute, but it drove me nuts sometimes. I could hardly move. And if I did manage to move, he scooted after me – even in his sleep! It used to amaze us that he could do this. I think he was drawn to the warmth of another body. Now, he goes to sleep in his own bed in his own room (by himself even!), though he doesn’t usually stay in his own bed all night.
The pipsqueak seems less dependent than the squeaker was at this age. The pipsqueak usually nurses until I make him stop, and then he rolls away from me, his little round arms clutching his stuffed dog. Sometimes he sits up and looks for me in the night, but he does not seem to have the same need that the squeaker did for constant physical contact. We used to kid that the squeaker would “track” us at night so that he could stay close, but the pipsqueak does not do that. He seems to like his own space.
Part of me is very excited about the night that we will move the pipsqueak to his own bed in the room that he will share with big brother. It will be cool to tuck them in at bedtime and then have time to ourselves without kids around. I like the thought of the two of them snuggled into their beds, each boy confident of his brotherly ally if a monster slithers from the closet. I like to think of them having quiet time together, and waking up ready to play...while mama and papa get a little extra sleep.
But I do not regret the co-sleeping. It is so cozy to hear that tiny little voice in the dark: “Rub. Rub feet.” Someday there will be no more baby feet to rub in my household, so I’ll take all that I can get.
So I took his little feet and rubbed them and rubbed them. I could see his long lashes resting against his cheek in the darkened room, so I figured he’d closed his eyes and fallen asleep at last. But no....”Rub. Rub.” I rubbed his smooth little back, his round little stomach, his pudgy little knees, his sweet little feet.
The squeaker used to curl up right next to me, nose to nose, with his little hand woven into my hair and his tiny toes against my leg. Cute, but it drove me nuts sometimes. I could hardly move. And if I did manage to move, he scooted after me – even in his sleep! It used to amaze us that he could do this. I think he was drawn to the warmth of another body. Now, he goes to sleep in his own bed in his own room (by himself even!), though he doesn’t usually stay in his own bed all night.
The pipsqueak seems less dependent than the squeaker was at this age. The pipsqueak usually nurses until I make him stop, and then he rolls away from me, his little round arms clutching his stuffed dog. Sometimes he sits up and looks for me in the night, but he does not seem to have the same need that the squeaker did for constant physical contact. We used to kid that the squeaker would “track” us at night so that he could stay close, but the pipsqueak does not do that. He seems to like his own space.
Part of me is very excited about the night that we will move the pipsqueak to his own bed in the room that he will share with big brother. It will be cool to tuck them in at bedtime and then have time to ourselves without kids around. I like the thought of the two of them snuggled into their beds, each boy confident of his brotherly ally if a monster slithers from the closet. I like to think of them having quiet time together, and waking up ready to play...while mama and papa get a little extra sleep.
But I do not regret the co-sleeping. It is so cozy to hear that tiny little voice in the dark: “Rub. Rub feet.” Someday there will be no more baby feet to rub in my household, so I’ll take all that I can get.
posted by Blue Moon Mama at 12:00 PM
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