We still rock Sam to sleep every night and for weekend naps. Don’t judge, and for god sake, please don’t tell our Pediatrician.
I know it seems a little high maintenance for a two year old, but he loves it and, well, I love it too. He gets his binky ( which he only ever uses with me), his fleecy blanket and settles into my chest. His hand usually works into the neckline of my shirt to find skin of some kind to rub. Sometimes, we sing songs or giggle at some jokes. Other times (like right now for example) he just snuggles in and I watch his eye lids grow heavier and heavier until he slips off into sweet slumber.
It is the most peaceful part of my life, creating a space of peace and love in his. So, sorry Doc, but I’m rocking him to sleep as much as I can. If I’ve learned anything in the last two years, it’s that this time is just too short. Hearing his baby snores, smelling his baby hair, feeling the weight and the warmth–all of those things bring me back to a place of meaning and intention. Comfort. And we both just need that.