The Difference of a Week

If I really thought that it was complaining that did the trick, I would do a whole lot more complaining.  It wasn’t blogging about Aiden’s refusal to sleep that changed him, but isn’t it funny that everything got better after I hit publish?

His afternoon naps have returned to their 1-2 hour normalcy, and it’s probably only been once or twice that he’s completely skipped out of the morning naps.  Yesterday, in fact, he slept for an hour in the morning.  (Thanks to Andrea teaching preschool and me needing to run errands, both Aiden and Boy Blue napped in the stroller.  So I walked home, parked the stroller where I normally park my car, and read a book in the garage until it was time to walk back to preschool, pick up Red, and load up in the car.)

What’s the trick?  Well, he’s teething, and he’s learning to cruise, and I hold to my beliefs that teething and developmental stages can be attributed to sleep disturbances.  Also, he’s sleeping better at night.  Babies are not grownups.  Sleep begets sleep.  So now he’s sleeping better at night, which makes him sleep better during the day, which makes him sleep better at night.

I am grateful.  And I think he is too.  There is such a difference between a baby who is so happy he can peel the paint off the walls with his shrieks of glee, and a baby who is so tired he won’t let me throw his dirty diaper in the trash because it means walking away from him (but he weighs 24 pounds so I can’t exactly carry him 8 hours a day.)

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