For a kid who’s still recovering from illnesses, Miles was completely wired yesterday. With Jaclyn working from home and me working a half day, all we could do was keep up with Miles, growing increasingly exhausted with every passing minute. Fortunately, he wasn’t too fussy for most of the day; that is, until it was actually time for bed.
Miles protested sleep for a couple hours, finally going down around 10:00. At last provided with a moment’s peace, Jaclyn and I collapsed onto the couch, watched a little television, then went to bed ourselves. At which point Miles woke up again.
His disquiet in the middle of the night seemed to be caused by a combination of hunger and generally not feeling well (his throat must’ve been pretty sore from the coughing). Even though he was clearly tired, Miles just cried and cried. We fed him, cradled him, read books to him, even let him lay in bed with us…but nothing worked.
Finally, left with no alternative and rapidly approaching 3 AM, I decided to go with the nuclear option: I strapped Miles into his car seat and went for a drive until he was lulled to sleep. After all, it works coming home from daycare!
Sure enough, by the time I pulled back up to the house 30 minutes later, Miles was dead to the world. As deeply as he appeared to be sleeping, I still eyed him cautiously as I prepared to lift him from a car seat, feeling all the careful consideration that a globe-trotting archaeologist might possess while eyeballing a golden idol in a South American temple riddled with boobytraps.
After I gently moved Miles from the car to the house and lowered him into his bed, I tiptoed out of the room. Jaclyn, standing in the hallway, whispered, “Thank you.”
“Why are you even still awake?” I asked as I climbed into bed and immediately slipped into a deep slumber of my own.