My baby boy grew, and he spent less time sleeping in my arms and more time sleeping in his crib. A week ago, that crib became a bed, and in three months my baby will turn three years old.
His naps have been almost non-existent since he gave up his pacifier a few weeks ago, and he hasn't taken to the concept of quiet time the way A did when she stopped napping. Yesterday afternoon, I pulled my tired, tearful boy into my lap and put on a movie to calm him after a frustrating end to another not-so-quiet quiet time...and he fell asleep in my lap, forty minutes before his sister's bus was due to return.
Today I decided to test out a new quiet time idea, and after lunch D picked out a movie and climbed into my lap with a cup of milk. Half an hour into Despicable Me, my baby boy fell asleep in my lap. I had plans to carry him up to his room or lay him down on the couch and spend a quiet hour or two reading my book for book club...and then I changed my mind.
One day, my baby boy will outgrow his nap completely. One day, he won't want to climb into my lap, and one day he won't even fit. So today, I'm savoring his little head on my shoulder, his soft breathing, his warm body in my arms, because almost three is awfully sweet.
I'll catch up on my reading another day.