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My sweet girl just turned 21 months.
From day one we have been all about a good solid night-time routine. I blame this routine for her sleeping 8 hours a night at six weeks old, and even now she sleeps a solid 11 sometimes 13 hours a night.
The routine went like this: each night I would lather her in lavender lotion, put her pajamas on, swaddle her up tight, and then nurse her and rock her to sleep.
The night-time routine has evolved, to swapping her swaddle for a blanket, adding story time, no nursing, and then no rocking, then switching her crib to a day bed. (That’s another story for a different day)
Now, I don’t know about you but, the most graceful moment of my chaotic day would be when I could just rock my sweet gift in my arms for 10 or so minutes at bedtime. All of my worldly problems would drift away as I sat there rocking my actual world in that chair. I missed it dearly but I knew she needed to learn to go to sleep on her own. She missed it too. I know this because, recently she got out of her bed, went over to the rocker and patted it, as if she was asking my me to rock her. I took that opportunity right up! I didn’t want to miss out on a chance of holding my sweet girl. I will never forget that feeling, my heart against her heart, her head on my shoulder, her warm breath on my neck. There was no place in the world I’d rather be. It was exactly what I needed that day. My heart was full, very full. All of my cares, worries, stresses went away in that moment. It’s like she could tell exactly what I needed and granted it to me. It was in that moment I realized I needed her more than she needed me.
Now, each night get I give her the option to just go to sleep or to be rocked. She switches between both options. I don’t mind. Not one bit. I know there will come a day when she doesn’t need me as much anymore, so I will take these moments and cherish them. After all, she is only just so little for just such a little while. ❤️