And miles to go before I sleep

They say that travel open up new horizons for you and makes you a better and more rounded person. I don't remember hearing that this statement applied to babies as well as adventurous adults, but evidently in a certain baby's case it does apply.

Baby S is doing lots of new and exciting things. He's jumping through all the proper hoops, crawling and teething and babbling at me with the concerted expression of "you know what I mean...know what I'm saying here mom," and I'm really loving it. He's even learned to say hi and wave his hand up and down. But, one of the most noteworthy milestones of all has to do with his sleeping. Upon arriving at my brother's home in Ohio a very tired baby S was plopped without very much decorum or cerimony into a five year old Pack 'n Play for the night. We didn't really plan on co-sleeping since there was only a lone single bed ill suited to a squirmy S, but we had no backup plan. My brother who we affectionately call Mister Safety, and who is likewise not the least bit offended by this title, hadn't been told that we even planned on possibly cosleeping. I knew he would have given me a longwinded and very detailed lecture about the many hidden dangers of baby squashing, and I just didn't want to hear it all spelled out in 'virgo' detail. I had eyed the floor, immediately sizing up the inevitible digs baby S and I would be forced to share. At least there was a piled rug.

And so now for the freaky part. My little angel actually fell asleep in that borrowed, portable bed. That's right he actually slept! And you should have seen my jaw drop when while I was getting the late night, quickie tour of the house by my sister-in-law, my brother showed up to say, "I just went in to check on him and I covered him for you. He's so sweet and..." I'm sure I jumped, I was so startled. "You WHAT? And he didn't wake up...whoa WHAT!?" I was stunned in utter disbelief. He had no idea that for almost nine months S had been curled up in our bed right next to me nursing. No idea that all experiments to tiptoe away from him or check on his breathing if we did tiptoe away had ended in a gutteral primal "WAHHHHHH" of protest. "Okay" I thought. We'll just chalk it up to jet lag. It's just a fluke. After all, he hadn't slept in what, fourteen hours. A baby is bound to do anything under those circumstances.

He never woke once that night. He slept through again and again and EVERY SINGLE NIGHT after that. And here he's still sleeping throught the night. We have no idea why but we won't even question it. I just want to dance a jig or something. Finally after a year I can get a good night's sleep. Sleep is no longer a faded memory of the past. What I used to know as sleep; endless soirees attached to a 15 pound octopus latching it's suction on me for intermittent cocktail hours, has become what it was again; a tired woman with a pillow and a 16 pound baby not so far across the room in his very own bed.