Wednesday, June 04, 2008

Let the Moonlight Take the Lid Off of Your Dreams

Caleb, you're 8 months old today. As it does every month, this milestone blows me away.

But today I'm not going to write about how mobile you're becoming (even though it's just by a series of rolls and not by crawling) or how I keep wondering when you'll cut your first tooth.

Today I want to talk about your sleeping habits.
Now I should say that I'm super lucky to have a baby who sleeps like a champ and has for quite some time. You rarely wake in the middle of the night, and will put yourself back to sleep almost every time you do wake. You're down by 9 and up by 7 almost every day. And you take pretty good naps, if you're given the chance. No, you actual sleep patterns aren't really worth commenting on, except to say, "Good job!"
But the way you sleep. Now that's something else.

When my mom (your MamMaw) was staying with us while Daddy was in Iraq, she and I used to laugh at how noisy you were in your sleep. My friend Kristy dubbed you Sir Grunts A Lot, and that you did. You spent most of your night grunting and groaning. I guess sleep is strenuous when you're a newborn.

You outgrew your gruntiness, but not long after that, you learned to roll over. And you haven't stopped since then.

I never know where I'll find you in you're crib. You don't know this, but I'm supposed to put you on your back when you sleep. But since you've learned to roll, you refuse to sleep on your back. This isn't terribly unusual or cause for concern, though.
What makes me laugh isn't the rolling, it's the complete change in positions. I'll put you on your back with your head towards the window, and five minutes later you're conked out on your tummy with your head towards the door, on the opposite end of the crib. Sometimes you wedge yourself into a corner, even occasionally changing your position to fit the corner, as in the shape of an L. Or I'll find you with your face pressed against the mirror in your crib, breathing little pools of condensation at your reflection.

This is my fault, I'm afraid. You've inherited the weird sleep bug that I have. When my dad used to come kiss me good-bye in the morning, he would generally find me with my head down at the foot of the bead, blankets askew, and bum high in the air. I've been know to sleep walk, sleep talk, and sleep act. When I was 16 I used to wake up to find myself sitting straight up in bed acting as if I was filling orders at Hardee's (my first job.) In more recent years, I even punched your poor father in the head, because I was convinced that his head was a crystal ball about to roll down the stairs. (Blame Harry Potter for that one!)
I genuinely hope that strange sleep positions is as bad as it gets for you. Because it can be stressful to have such an active sleep life. I once lost my pajama pants for at least a day because I couldn't remember what I did with them when I took them off in my sleep. I hope you never lose your pajama pants.

But as much as I hope it doesn't get this extreme for you, I have to admit that I smile whenever I look in on your crazy little sleeping body. I love that we already have something in common so young and can't wait to find out what else we'll share as you grow older.

I love you, sweet boy. Happy 8 Month Birthday.

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