sleep

Here's Eliana, last night, when she completely sat up in her bucket. She was so damn proud of herself, I could hardly stand it. I think she might have been letting us know that she maybe, perhaps, is the tiniest bit ready to sleep on her own.

I have been reading more mommy blogs and once again feel the compulsion to capitalize. I know the next time I post in a pinch, I won't be so self-conscious. It's one of those weird things. I get paid to teach children how to capitalize, for heaven's sake. I know how to do it. I also excelled in my typing classes in middle school. I work the shift key just fabulously. It's just one extra step that makes this a bit formal for me. But that's not at all my point...

So, since Eliana's birth, she's been a pretty damn solid sleeper. She sleeps in this little "criblet" or "bucket" or "Safe and Secure Sleeper from Target" between us in our bed. It's tight, but it's sweet and that's how we've been going all along. Well, homegirl is getting pretty damn big and has just about busted out of the bucket. Last night we had her asleep in the box in the middle of the bed and Jeffy and I had to keep checking on her because we were both hyper-paranoid and sure that she could roll right out of the thing (even though she's swaddled which paints a picture somehwhat like that of a quadriplegic falling out of her wheelchair, a rather unfortunate and upsetting connection, I know, but I just couldn't help going there...). So Jeff build this little fortress of pillows all around the bucket and Eliana continued to sleep, her long legs dangling off the side of the box (later to kick and push against my back the whole night). On top of this ridiculous set up, Eliana was also waking up every hour. This is not common behavior for our angelic girl. I, of course, did exactly what you're not "supposed" to do and marched right in there, picked her up, and nursed her right back to sleep. At some point, around the third or fourth pick-up, Jeff and I had the conversation. Homegirl has got to try her own room, her crib, her lair. It's kinda funny because our house is tiny and Eliana's room is right next to ours. It's also gorgeous and perfectly set up for a little baby girl to sleep in. But I've grown so attached to our little set up. I love being able to put my hand on her belly to check on her breathing. I love the way Jeff and I watch her sleep. I love it how, sometimes after her morning nurse, I move her bucket and just let her sleep in my arms. It's really the absolute best thing in the entire universe. But we're not getting enough sleep. And on our travels, Jeff and I had our first opportunity to actually sleep next to one another in a bed. And I have to admit, it was kinda nice. It was nice to be able to move. To not have little feet walking up and down my spine in a deliriously sleepy rhythm. It was nice to feel sort of like, well, my old self again (this is a concept that continues to come up lately, one that I need to further explore). So tonight, I bit the bullet. I nursed Elie, we had some "quiet play time" with her pink bunny on the bed. And then I surreptitiously moved her into her room. I let her hang in the crib for a while, to sort of get a lay of the land. I then picked her up, nursed her to sleep in the glider, and then, ever so carefully, put her back in her crib. Now I still know that I'm breaking all sorts of rules. You don't rock or nurse your baby to sleep because then they grow dependent up on you, yadda yadda. I know all that. But still, she is an attachment baby. And this is the first time, EVER, under my care, that she has slept alone, in her crib. Now it will be a wonder if I can actually sleep in my bed in the other room. I have a vision of myself curled up on the futon by the crib with one eye open and on her at all times. And maybe she'll wake up screaming in a few minutes and the whole deal will be off. I'm not sure. I do know that I love her more than anything and I can't stand to be away from her. But I also know, that she's approaching six months and it's time for me to, at least give her a bit of space to, spread her little wings and fly, just the teeniest bit, solo.