Thumps = Good Mothering

Luke is currently quieting himself down after I put him to bed. He's switched himself to one nap and longer night sleeping, which is a lovely thing, but he has also learned to grab the banister as we head up the stairs and the doorway to his room, so hateful he is of the 'sleeping' thing.

I don't know if I was like this when I was a baby, but I don't remember fighting sleep as a child. In fact, I loved bedtime because I would tell myself stories before I drifted off to sleep, kind of like lucid dreaming only decidedly not dreaming. And Esposo? The MIL thought he was dead when he slept through the night at TWO WEEKS. Two weeks, people. So the thing is, we are sleepers. The son is not into the sleeping.

Unfair.

I dragged my complaining almost-eleven-month-old up to bed, exhausted as he is because he took only a forty five minute nap today, and changed him before he was summarily chucked into his crib. I change him on the floor because he is the squirmiest, squiggliest child on the face of the Earth. I've seen other children changed, children who don't immediately object to laying on their backs for 2 minutes, and it amazes me. Like it's a magic trick. Anywho, I pick him up and lean him back to commence the diaper changing process. He knows what's going to happen and immediately arches his back in protest, as I'm bringing him towards the floor.

And there is a loud thump as his head hits the (carpetted) floor. This has to happen at least once per day. The kid's got a hard head.

I pull his sweatpants down quickly, so they're still on his legs at the ankles, but inside out and hanging over his feet, and am able to remove the damp diaper before he squirms upright. Nekkid. With sweatpants over his feet.

And he commences walking. Walking better than he does clothed without sweatpants binding his feet together. What a goofy boy. Post-diapering, I attempt to read him a story and cuddle a bit before bed. But now he's remembered that this bedroom place has that key word he hates, 'bed', and he crawls anxiously to the door to try and attempt his escape.

I pick him up and try to soothe him good night and he pushes away with hands and feet, trying to get down. I try to place him gently in his crib, and again the arching and the head thumping, followed immeadiately by the standing up and the crying to be picked up. I whisper to him 'Good Night' and 'Mommy loves you', and walk out the door to the sound of his whining cry. Halfway through this post he stopped making any noises.

And that is bedtime around here.