Growing Up.

Something is different here, in our house, our lives. I can't pinpoint exactly what it is. Maybe it's just that I've been sick the past few days, and often when you're sick and then suddenly not things look different, better, brighter. I said a couple of weeks ago that Adelyn has become much easier to handle. That's still true. But now she's not just easier. She's more adaptable. She's taken all three naps today in her crib. She's eaten a full bottle every three to four hours. She's been spitting up like there's no tomorrow but she's been completely content doing it.

I don't know if Adelyn's changing or if I am, if I've finally found some sort of stride as a mother, some way to define what my parenting is and isn't. I think I'm finally starting to let go and just be.

Yesterday I took Adelyn to her future babysitter's house. I majorly lucked out here--my best friend's sister, a woman I completely trust, love, and am in awe of--is going to watch Adelyn part-time when my job officially starts the week after next. I went to a meeting yesterday and took Adelyn over there for two hours, so we could "test the waters" and also make sure she wasn't completely crazy for agreeing to watch a baby in addition to her three other children.

Addy did great. When I walked in the door she was asleep on her babysitter's chest; the woman's own nine-month-old was happily scurrying across the floor. Her two-year-old and four-year-old were playing outside.

Before we left I asked her her tricks for getting the nine-month-old to nap--something I've been struggling with lately.

"I put her in her crib, kiss her, turn off the light and leave the room."

"Just like that?" I asked her. That's all it takes?

"When you have three kids, nap time is nap time."

Simple enough.

As far as mothers go, this is one that I would pay money to take advice from. She's just a natural. Not that she doesn't get irritated when her four year old son refuses to pick up after himself--because I don't idolize the sort of mothers who pretend to be immune to exasperation--but she just seems so comfortable in her role as nurturer and protector.

And it really got me thinking when I got home, about how much things must change when you've been there, done that. On your second child, third child, fourth child, are you still stressing about proper bedtime rituals and schedules or are you just doing what you know works, no frills, no incessant googling and reading up on the most mundane of topics?

So at Addy's next nap I gave it a shot. I took out the Nap Nanny. Casually kissed Addy's little cheek. Put her in her crib. Turned off the light and walked away.

The crying started within minutes, of course. I went back in, put my hand on her stomach, told her everything in her little world was just fine, and walked out.

After three rounds of this I gave in and brought back the Nap Nanny. Adelyn fell asleep in it almost instantaneously.

And since then she hasn't touched her swing. To me, this is a victory. Not that I've completely solved the Baby Sphinx, but still. And even more, I can't remember why I was so dead-set on getting rid of the Nap Nanny. I do these sort of things to myself all the time--as a mother and before--creating these complications that are all in my head. We bought the Nap Nanny because Addy likes the Nap Nanny. End of story.

Addy has gone from easier to borderline-easy, smiling all the time, napping when she needs to, crying when there's a definitive reason, entertaining herself long enough for me to do human, non-baby related tasks. A lot of it is her own growth, but a lot if it, I'm realizing, is mine, too.