Thursday, March 12, 2015

Dear Rosie
We got to cuddle today. Putting you to sleep is no longer the worst ever. 4 months ago - we were not friends. I loved you cuz you were my baby girl but... we were not friends. You didn't know how to sleep! You would cry and cry - like hard core hysterical. We figured out that if you had a loud sound in your ear it would calm you down... most of the time. I'm talking hair dryers and vacuums up by your face kind of loud - and hours on end! Your Dad and I would work all evening to put you to sleep and you would wake up 15 minutes later -- screaming away. You had the jimmy legs really bad too. After you FINALLY would go to sleep, I'd relax and start thinking about a strategy to put you in bed and you'd start to twitch - your arms and head flailing around and you would wake your self up again. Or if we jiggled you about too much trying to lay you down you'd wake up. It was infuriating. 

There was much wall punching.

Now. You are glorious.

I always put you down drowsy but awake. You some times fuss but mostly just get your self to sleep. Dad likes to hold you until you are totally konked out. Not because he HAS to but because he WANTS TO. It is so nice.

And today I was thinking how when Dalton was a baby I relished in all the moments to hold him. I some times would hold him through his whole 2 hour nap, just because I could. And I was feeling bad that I don't hold you like that. However, I am SO proud of you that you put yourself to sleep so well now. Also - I have to get you down into bed quick because your big brother is trying to be potty trained and does pee on stuff if you don't keep an eye on him.

Next. Work on your 8 hr stretches. :) Pleeeeeaaaasssseee

Love you Rowie

Mom


- Top picture is you today. Snuggled in with ease.

- Next is you and Dad. Dad really put in some long hours with you... he likes you.

- Last is just trying to get you to sleep where ever I can make it happen. I would build little 'nests' where every I could get you down at. Never lasted long, danget. 

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