To Sleep Or Not To Sleep, That Is The Question

My growth spurt did, in fact, end last Tuesday and I went back to my regular sleeping schedule at night. Then something happened last night. And mommy has asked me to write a special post today to tell everyone about it.

So, here I am, forced to announce that I slept 6.5 hours last night. From 10:30pm to 5am to be exact. I don't know what the big deal is. I was tired. Plus, I wanted to convince mommy that, contrary to her intuition, it is not yet time to transition me out of M & D's bedroom and into my crib.

Mommy thinks it's time for me to make "the big move." I beg to differ. She went into battle with me last night, but I was determined to hold my ground. Guess who came out victorious? 

She lulled me to sleep around my bedtime and then ever so gently set me down in my crib. The sleep giraffe was on, softly playing his calming African beats. The room was pitch dark. The baby monitor was on. The door was closed ever so gently. But something wasn't right. The room didn't smell like M & D's room. The mattress was hard. And I could immediately tell I wasn't in my cozy little rocker. I didn't hear anyone breathing near me. I grew sad and lonely. Where was mommy? Where was daddy? Where was Luci for heaven's sake? That darn giraffe and his Afro beats were my only forms of consolation. Did they really think an inanimate object could provide the same level of comfort? It was like they had placed me in solitary confinement. I didn't enjoy this new sleeping arrangement one bit. A midday nap in my crib is one thing. But it was nighttime and I'm not too proud to admit it was scary. So, I did what any self respecting 8-week old would do. I started wailing.

Mommy eventually came running and we went through the same routine again: lulling to sleep, crib, giraffe, dark room, hard mattress, loneliness, wailing. 

After losing two consecutive rounds, mommy surrendered and put me to bed in my rocker in her bedroom. 

And, because I didn't want to go through the same song and dance again tonight, I decided to sleep for 6.5 hours (and then for another 3.5 hours), just to drive the message home. Weston in his crib = no sleep for anybody. Weston in his rocker in M & D's bedroom = hours upon hours of glorious sleep for all. 

Which would you choose?

Love, 

WFT

PS - Some pictures from the past several  days: