My, how things change

I know this is going to sound completely rediculous, untrue and more than slightly deranged, but, for nearly two years, Steve and I rocked Owen to sleep every night and for every nap. Seriously, nearly two years. Owen would never fall asleep if he were awake in his own crib and would cry. Trust me, the kid most of you have met can get himself worked up into such a crying jag that he will give himself the hiccups. He would do this if we didn't do the rocking.

And pretty much for this same period of time, he slept through the night fewer than 25 times. Steve bore the brunt of this idiosyncracy, but nonetheless, it was exhausting. (I would at this time like to note that we are old parents, so, this is actually quite something.)

And then, suddenly, we tried a big boy bed. And wouldn't you know it, he puts himself to sleep, everytime, for every slumber. And, he sleeps through the night 98 percent of the time. It was miraculous, shocking and really quite astounding when we realized that he was doing this on his own, like a big boy. It was if he said to himself, ok, I got it from here guys, I am a big boy with my big boy bed and I can do it.

When we look back on those nearly two years of sleep deprivation and frustration of not having a child who could sooth himself to sleep, we cannot believe we did it, or that he did for that matter. It is yet another example that being a parent is the most bittersweet endeavor one could imagine. Sometimes, I miss those quiet times in his room rocking him into a slumber singing him lullabys and talking about his day, other times, I cannot believe we made it this far and how proud I am of all of us for doing what worked for our boy (not necessarily for us).