And we're crawling!

It's no secret that Camden isn't exactly a superb sleeper. Still, the kind of night we had the other night was downright awful- even for him.

That night, Camden went to bed at around 8pm. He went to sleep easily, with minimal fussing. I thought we were in for a good night (or, a good-by-Camden's-standards night anyway). Around 10pm, Camden woke up and fussed for me. This is not unusual and I went in to nurse him back to sleep. Only, he wasn't interested in nursing which is unheard of in Camden Land. I mean, normally all you have to do is say the word "boobie" to this kid and he gets a super grin on his face. Not that night, though. He was not having it.

For the next two hours, Camden tossed and turned fitfully. And moaned and groaned. Then tossed and turned some more. He'd give up every once in a while and simply stare at the ceiling with wide open eyes. Thinking he might be sick, I felt his forehead and cheeks. They were cool to the touch. Wondering if he might be teething (because isn't that always the answer when you've exhausted the list of other possibilities?!), I gave him a small dose of Tylenol. No dice. He was still just as restless.

Just after midnight, I took him upstairs to sit with Daddy (who was still awake, watching Sports Center) in the theater room. Camden sat peacefully next to Matt, mesmerized by the lights on the theater screen. But when Matt brought him back to bed a half hour later, the tossing and turning resumed. And it lasted until 1:45am when he finally fell into an exhausted sleep.

Here is Camden hanging out with Daddy in the theater room. For the record, that is a sleep sack he's wearing-- not a dress.

I was a zombie the next morning but was more confused than irritated by what had happened the night before. I sat on the floor next to Camden as he played with his blocks and racked my brain in an effort to determine the cause of his sleep strike.

And then it happened. Camden pushed himself up on his hands and knees, looked at a block that was just beyond his reach, and started to crawl towards it. My eyes widened and my mouth flew open as I turned to yell for Matt, who was sitting in the recliner, to look. But Matt had already noticed and was smiling down at Camden as he reached his destination and picked up the absentee block. I could feel the tears flooding my eyes (because I am that cheesy) as I clapped my hands and congratulated Camden over and over again.

Now, I have heard from a couple of sources that babies often have very disrupted sleep when they're about to hit a new milestone. This was true of Camden in the nights before he started sitting up independently and, I realized in that moment, was true of Camden again right before he started crawling. Why sleep when you can mentally rehearse your big crawling debut instead?!

Now, being that I'm a first time mom, I didn't know what to expect when Camden started crawling. He had been rocking back and forth on all fours for a couple of weeks, and I just expected that one of these days, he would suddenly take off and be an unstoppable crawling whirlwind. It hasn't been quite that dramatic (yet). His crawling is very slow and cautious right now. But whenever he reaches a destination, be it the laptop (a personal favorite of his) or Maggie's tail (I believe we have a future pet harasser on our hands), he beams with pride.

And, as is the case with every new milestone he reaches, I am also filled with so much pride-- but I'd be lying if I said there wasn't the tiniest touch of sadness too. This baby of mine, who was not so long ago turning flips inside my belly, is crawling. This baby of mine, who I rocked to sleep countless nights, is crawling. This baby of mine, who was just a dream for the longest time, is crawling-- and growing up.