I'm Gonna Miss You Baby

Ty moved out last night. It was a bittersweet milestone, but one whose time had come. He just wouldn't sleep. Every couple of hours he was up, first a whine, then a scream. I tried to outlast him. Really I did. But he wore me down. Owie, Owie Owie he would chant, until finally I would rise and adjust his sock, or pull down his sleeve, or fix his blanket. Then he would throw himself on his pillow and close his eyes. But if I returned to bed without stroking his cheek for a minute or so, it would begin again. And then, he would be snoring before my head hit the pillow. And me??? I would be tossing and turning for the next 20 minutes. IF I was lucky.

And daddy wasn't unscathed by the nightly drama either. Exhaustion was setting in. We couldn't think, we couldn't sit still without drifting off to sleep. Forget read-aloud time. Just being pregnant means I can barely make it through without a nap, after the nightly routine with TY...forget it.

So, last night we moved his crib into the girls room. We figured they could handle the deprivation better than we. At least for a while. Looking at the spot where his crib has sat for so long made me sad. Just an empty wall where a sweet baby used to be. I thought of our morning time, such a sweet way to start the day. Each morning I would bring him to my bed and we would cuddle, he would insist on holding my hand and giving me wet, slobbery kisses. He would point to the pillow until a propped it on the headboard so that he could lay back and pull the covers over his legs. Every morning we had about 20 minutes of cuddle time before we joined the day.

It's a beautiful way to start the morning. And now he's on the other side of the house, where he will wake up alone because the girls rise earlier than he does.

But this morning he rose with the girls, and came to my room for our morning ritual. They said he only woke once, talking to himself quietly before drifting back to sleep. The night was smooth and easy. And Mike and I slept all the way through it. The empty space on my wall is still jarring, but I can form complete sentences today. That's a good trade-off.