ooops

We thought we had him where we wanted him. But now he’s definitely running the show. Or something.

Sleep routine, my big behind.

Two nights ago, maybe it was teething. The crying, the waking. We brought him back into bed with us. Then last night, back into the crib.

And tonight, crib. But we’re basically rocking and singing him to sleep, and then he wakes up as soon as we put him down, and cries if we leave the room, and then we go in and do it again. I have no stomach for CIO lately (even though I have let him for a few minutes, a few times) and I’m feeling incredibly bad about it. The threat of “bad habits” as in “you’re going to create…” is taking all the fun out of this parenthood thing. I keep hearing the Baby Whisperer asking me if I want to be rocking a 20 pound sack of potatoes to sleep because soon that’s what I will be doing. Start as you mean to go on, she’d say. My big fat butt, I say back. Which is American English for, “You’re right, and the horse you rode in on has a  big fat butt.”

In other news, the boy continues to be incredibly cute and full of laughter (when he’s not being expected to sleep). In fact, he’s most giggly sometimes just after you put him down and his eyes pop open and he wiggles his legs and cocks his head, “Play with me?” he says.

His roll-overs have gotten more elegant. Now, from his belly, he pushes up, and then raises his head with a SWOOP, giving him an arc-ing swanlike momentum as he flops over.

Today I bought rubber-tipped spoons. Solid food, coming soon…