I have a confession to make: I still rock my baby to sleep every night. And yes, that baby is 19 months old. I've heard all the warnings that he'll never be able to sleep without rocking, but you know what? I've never met a 26 year old who needs to be rocked to sleep. I'm just sayin'.
Toward the end of my pregnancy, I used to sit in the glider and rock every night. I'd talk to my stomach and tell him (though I didn't know for sure I had a him in there) that we were ready for him. Our first night home from the hospital, I rocked with him snuggled in my arms, and I could hardly believe he was here. Since then, we've rocked nearly every night. As he grows, his feet dangle off my lap, and it's not the same snug fit we once had. But somehow, his body still molds itself into my arms as he sinks into sleep.
This is our quiet time, our time to nurse, and then cuddle into each other. I smell his hair, I study his impossibly long eyelashes,