It’s time for Raphael to start sleeping in his own bed. He’s a light sleeper and our movements disturb him. Everyone is tired and cranky. And he can climb on and off the couch, so he’ll be fine with the crib converted to the toddler bed.
And still, I hate this phase. All he wants is to snuggle down next to mommy and nurse himself to sleep, to be cuddled and comforted and safe. Heck, I want to cuddle him as much as he wants cuddles. But neither of us are sleeping well, and it isn’t good for anyone. Last night Himself tells me that he slept fairly well by himself on the couch. So to his own bed he goes.
And I’m going to miss him. I’ll miss his rambunctious tumbling around the bed when he’s in a good mood and not ready to go to sleep yet. I’ll miss him trying to drown me out as I read aloud to Himself before bed – because if Mommy can be loud, then surely it’s okay if he’s loud too. The way he’ll rumpus around only to fall asleep in an eye blink. The snoring. The random giggling in the middle of the night. The way he can fret, only to be calmed by a reassuring hand. The way he wakes up delighted to see me.
On the other hand, I won’t miss the screaming. But then I suppose I know the screaming won’t be going away anytime soon.
There’s so much change with little babies. They grow so fast, get to needing something beyond just you so fast. He’s so different… and simultaneously so the same. Just like he’s visually a little carbon copy of David, and in personality only himself.
I hope it won’t be too upsetting for him. Or too disruptive for David, having him transition to having the baby actually living in the room with him.