I got up and went into his room, got him out of his crib. Held him for a minute while his crying subsided and he caught his breath. He quieted and began to voluntarily snuggle into my shoulder. This is new for him. I sat down in my glider and rocked him in the semi-dark, listening to him breathe and praying over him. I'm not sure how long we stayed there...maybe a half-hour? Every once in a while I'd look down my nose to see if he'd fallen asleep. He was wide awake the whole time, gazing around the room, and sometimes up at my face. I wonder if, after more than a month home, he woke up disoriented, forgetting where he was or how he had come to be in that room. Then I imagined his inner monologue: Where the heck am I? Wait...the door is opening. Who's that? Oh...OK...I know that lady. She's always hanging around, and she gives me food and stuff. Calls herself "mama," I think. Hmmm...snuggling. This feels nice, actually. I like this. More, please.
Mama will take more please, too. But, and she's being honest here, she'd prefer the snuggling to happen at a more reasonable time of day.
|This photo is unrelated to my post, but I find it so funny, I just wanted to share. I regularly find J with his legs sticking wonkily out of his crib...like today, during his morning nap.|