Jackson has always been a good sleeper.
At exactly 6 weeks he slept through the night. I remember it in vivid detail.
We were visiting family at Petit Jean Mountain Resort during Labor Day weekend. Eric and I woke at 5:30 a.m. and silently shrieked that we had just enjoyed a good night's sleep.
However, as everyone knows when the kid is sick, all bets are off.
All previous behavior is moot.
Last night, Jackson woke at 2 a.m. with a terrible ear ache.
After rounds of pain relievers and comfort, it always ends with everyone in the same bed.
Which means on my left I get to hear Eric softly snore the night away, while on my right Jackson steals every inch of my pillow.
The only other one awake is the dog, who stares at me in the dark wondering if I might be interested in preparing him a 3 a.m. snack. He's game.
Eventually everyone passes out and all is much better in the morning light.
However, and I'm thinking most parents will agree here? The sleep cycle is ruined.
Once they get a taste of that Queen size, they're never heading back to nursery-ville.
You've taken three sleepy steps back.
So tonight, Jackson was not too thrilled about hitting the sack solo. He requested another song, he needed a hug or two and finally he just outright asked me not to leave.
What can you do? Especially when his nose is so stuffy.
So I figure I'll give it a shot and halfway crawl into his tiny bed to cuddle him to sleep. I figure this will at least be better than everyone eventually crammed into our bed all night. Once he dozes off, I can just sneak away.
You know, I'll try Ross' old "hug and roll" trick, right?
Turns out the kid has a plan, too.
As soon as I've awkwardly configured my body partially into the little crib-bed, he is happy as a clam and would love to gossip over a hot cup of tea.
He's all "Mama! My friends played in the mud today!" and "When I get up, can we play with my blocks?"
Finally, he looks into my face and asks, "Mama? What are you trying to do?"
"I'm trying to sleep, Jackie," I reply keeping my eyes closed for effect.
He pauses to consider my efforts and then gently places his tiny hand on my cheek and says, "I am trying to get you to pay attention."