It was late at night or early in the morning – I can’t remember, as this took place several months ago. Seabass was awake again and my many efforts to soothe his wailing had come to nothing: holding him, rocking him, nursing him, patting him, etc etc.
With an aching back, I finally laid him down in his crib after 45 minutes of attempting to calm his restless little Seabass soul. Enflamed, he rolled to his belly and pulled up on his feet to stand and scream in my face. I was desperate.
And indeed, desperation is precisely what inspired me to cast off my slippers, grab the crib railing and heave myself into Seabass’ crib.
I was so tired, I just wanted to lay down, so that’s exactly what I did; scrunched up knees and toes shivering under a tiny toddler blanket. I pulled Seabass’ body down to lay beside me and quickly pinched my eyes shut to convey the message that NOW IS THE TIME FOR SLEEP. THIS IS WHAT WE ARE DOING NOW. EVERYONE. WITHOUT EXCEPTION.
I lay there, eyes closed, breathing slowly in the hopes that Seabass’ breathing would soon follow suit. He lay still beside me, in what I believed to be a drowsy elation that his most favorite person in the whole world was closer than ever.
Ten minutes went by without so much as a stir on either of our parts. I thought it safe to peak with pride at the boy I had so cleverly put to sleep. With the crack of an eye I saw…
A wide awake Seabass – eyes round as dinner plates – laying on his side, staring at his weird mama who had somehow thought it helpful to jump into his bed. Ever heard of personal space, lady???