It was another long night. The seasons are shifting, and spring’s weather has been erratic at best. Some days, it’s gorgeous and sunny, so we’ll leave the windows open. Then the next day, it will dip below freezing and we’ll have to turn the heat back on. Even when it’s consistently nice(ish), we can leave the heat off, but then at night the house temperature dips down into the colder side of things. This has been causing some frustrating temperature monitoring because my son’s room is the warmest room in the house. He has trouble sleeping if it’s too hot or too cold. And the constant temperature fluctuations have made for a lot of late night wakings.
Last night was not much better, so finally at 5:30, my husband offered to get up with him. I asked him just to bring him back in to bed with us since we were going to get up at 6:00 anyway. My son came into bed, but was clearly not in the mood to go back to sleep. He crawled around between the two of us, babbling his newly developed non-language. Finally, he settled on the pillow and said “Happy.” Clear as day, I swear I heard it, and I repeated it back. Then he said it again. “Happy.”
It was a moment I’ll never forget. While he may not have been able to articulate much else, he was able to say a word he knew, to us, in a moment that expressed his feelings. It validated me, as a parent, because my kid is actually happy. Maybe I’m doing okay at this parenting thing after all.