Lullaby

Generally speaking, our little guys have made it a habit of sleeping through the night. We couldn't be happier. There is, of course, the occasion that Jonathan comes into our room in the wee morning hours, but we aren't convinced he wakes up. The only time we are sure he is awake is when mom accidentally rolls over and he makes an abrupt trip to the floor. He settles back down easily enough, and as long as he has "A cup, a cup! Dwink!!" he goes back to his own bed just fine.

Ethan has learned to love sleep as much as he loves food. OK, not quite that much, but nothing really compares there anyway. There are some nights, like last night, that he wakes up every couple of hours. I know there really is no substitute for a mother on these occasions. Someone to rock, cuddle, and sing; bundle them up and let them feel the comfort and security of their mother's arms. Even so, James and I generally take turns going in with a bottle, where it takes about 7 seconds to lay him down, cover him up, and tell him to go to sleep. Such was the case last night. Around 3 in the morning, I had the brilliant idea to change the little guy's diaper. We certainly got our money's worth from that one. Ethan, at this point, had kifed his bottle of sleep juice (relax, people, it's just milk. Promise) and was well on his way to meeting sugar plum fairies. As I zipped up his pajamas, I noticed some moisture on them. I was torn. I knew if I changed his pajamas, I would have an awake little Ethan for the next hour. Instead I sprinkled half a bottle of baby powder inside his blue footed star pajamas. Pat, pat. See you at 5.