When Miles graduated from his Pack ‘n’ Play to a larger bed, he was overjoyed. Although it was only a twin mattress on the floor, he had far more space to spread out, a pillow of his own, and a feeling that he was reaching an important milestone. Still, despite only being about six inches from the ground, I certainly knew that he would eventually tumble out of bed and onto the floor. I wasn’t sure exactly how freaked out he would be about it, but expected some degree of tears.
Well it finally happened a few nights ago. I was sitting in the living room, just about to head to bed myself, when I heard the noise. It was a loud THUD, followed by a short whimper. I was on my feet immediately, moving to his room as quietly as I could (fearing that hearing me run might just freak him out more). I opened his door and found him curled up about three feet away from the bed, his knees folded under his stomach and his butt sticking into the air, still fast asleep on his giant keyboard play mat. The fall hadn’t even woken him up.
I scooped him up off the floor, and he instinctively clung to me as we turned back to his actual bed. I set him back down and he went right back to his sleeping position as if nothing had happened. It was just another amazing display of childhood resilience, and a good sign that I can relax a little when it comes to night-time tumbling.
The Perils (& Pride) of Paternity 