It’s nearly 10, and suddenly a wail comes through over the baby monitor. I sigh and push myself to my feet, grumbling slightly; I’m so over the night waking, even though I know it’s most likely because of teeth right now. And, I suppose, it’s because Mommy was gone for 24 hours camping with Eric and he needs the reassurance that I’m still here.
Still, it’s tiring. He had been getting to a point where I could just be in the room and he would lay down and go to sleep – that’s gone now. I miss it. It felt like such a huge step in the right direction toward sleep.
I push open the door with all of the roiling in my head. When the crying instantly stops, it solidifies my resolve. I will not pick him up this time. I will stand strong! I will help him lay down on his own! Progress!
When I get to the side of his crib, I reach to him. I run my hand over his soft head, lay it on his cheek as I kiss his brow. The words are just forming on my lips to tell him to lay down and go to sleep when he lifts an arm. He gives me a half shrug, palm up, elbow bent – a mirror of how I hold my arms when I ask if he wants up.
In a tiny voice, he asks, “Up?”
How can I say no to that?