Good, good stuff

Red Fish is having some sleep issues. My guess is that they are somehow related to the fact that he is about to walk (we think?). For some reason, being about to reach a big ol' milestone like that messed up schedules and eating and all sorts of other stuff for the other two fishies. Brain capacity met, or something like that. Once they up and did the deed, everything sort of cleared up. Or so I'm hoping for Red Fish.

In the meantime, he is waking up at 5:15 every morning. I don't protest too terribly much because it was an uncomfortably short time ago that he was waking at 12, 2:30 AND 5:15. So, rock on with the solo 5:15 wake-up call, little man. But, the result of this is that he is ready for a nap at 7:30 AM (weird, right?) and another right after lunch. So, by 6:00 PM, he is really nothing but baggage. Heavy, inconsolable, baggage.

I just got him into the crib. He still nurses at night before bed. He was still a little warm from his warm bath and his longsleeved cotton onesie that had little sheep on it smelled like lavender. His hair was just starting to dry and was all curly and mussed on top and smelled like clean baby. He was so tired that he was heavy and limp and molded into my arms as soon as I started to rock him. In the dark, I could see his little eyelids fluttering. His little hand feels my arm while he nurses, but moves slower and slower as the minutes tick by. Every now and then his foot comes up toward my face and his rubbing hand touches it. Periodically, he leans his head back and stretches out completely and sighs and then melts right back into my arms again and resumes nursing. Sighs! How darling! When I know he is almost asleep, I stand up and moved him to the crib. He didn't even move after I put him down. Except for his little hand that still rubbed the sheet a little just as it had rubbed my arm.

That, ladies, is good, good, good stuff. Take you through a few more days, kind of stuff. Change the ickiest of the diapers that The Scientist gags at, kind of stuff. Totally worth it. Every bit worth it.

Please, Lord, help me to remember evenings like this when he has hair on his face and his feet and armpits stink to high heaven.