Friday, April 23, 2010

A Cliche in the Middle of the Night

2 nights ago: Iain woke up, screaming, and needed half an hour of cuddling and storytelling ("when you were just a baby you were born at 3 in the morning! And Callie came to see you in the hospital! She put her hands on your head, and we were all a little nervous, but it was fine." etc.)

When I finally put him back to bed, he spent 5 minutes demanding "rocking chair!!" before finally going back to sleep.

Last night, he awoke at 2:10, screaming. I waited 2 minutes to see if he'd calm down. No. So at 2:12 I went in, picked him up, sat in the rocking chair, and told him (in minute detail) about our impending flight to Salt Lake City. When we'd leave, what we'd take, each flight, who'd be there when we arrived, when he'd see his new house, the mountains, etc.

He went back to bed willingly, at 2:30. Then he woke again at 3:04. Grrr.

And me? Torn, of course. Iain is not cuddly. So the idea of holding him in the rocking chair, telling him stories and enjoying his warm little self - it's seductive. On the other hand, it's 2:30 IN THE MORNING.

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