I was crankin’ pants last night, anticipating another rocky night.

‘Twas not so.

He nursed at 8:30pm, I put him down in his crib, and he slept until 3:30am. I nursed him and put him down, and he talked, then squawked a bit. I sang him a lullaby from the futon, and he would quiet down again. After about 45 minutes of occasional squawking (I could tell he was trying to get himself to fall asleep), he cried out. I peeked into the crib to find him curled up on his tummy with his legs tucked underneath him, and his blanket at the other end of the crib. HE WAS COLD, DUMB MAMA! I covered him up and he promptly passed out. Duh.

What I’ve changed is that I’m back in his room. During this no-swaddle transition (and because we’re about to travel and while we’re gone we’re going to be sleeping in the same room anyways), he seems to want me close, and I figure this is a good compromise: He stays in his crib but knows I am right there if he needs me.