Bedtime at night has always been an area where Maddie’s parents have found safe haven. Sure naptime has been an up and down proposition, but once the lights go out, Maddie is not far behind.
Tonight’s nighttime routine was in line with what we’ve been doing since the beginning of the year. Maddie gets a little food, some bath time and then a bottle sends her right into dreamland. However, Maddie’s GPS must have shorted out tonight because dreamland was apparently off line.
Maddie’s mom laid the baby into her crib and closed the door. But one look at the monitor and it was obvious that Maddie had other plans for the evening. She started swinging her legs up in the air from one side of the crib to the other. Each time her feet would land with a crash into her shuddering crib. There were no screams, cries or protests – just vigorous crib activity and a few giggles. What was that wild banana up to now?
Her mom tried to coax her back to sleep with some more bottle, but Maddie was all fired up with no place to go. Once she was back in her crib, she picked up right where she left off. She was engaged in some sort of ancient steel cage kick fighting match with an entity that only she could see.
She must have lost that fight, because once the physical activity stopped, she started crying. I knew that it was time for the one activity we share that literally bores her to tears. That’s right, it was time for dad to break out the Fuzzy Little Duck storybook.
I started reading with a dull and totally monotone voice that seemed to suck the energy out of the room. I droned on in flat and disinterested voice that quickly turned the tide on my little powerhouse. She gave me a bored long look, silently imploring me to stop the madness. But I was too bored to notice and Maddie was quickly losing steam. I finally put the duck book out of its misery and laid Maddie into her crib without protest.
So was this rocky bedtime a blip on the radar or a sign of things to come? Personally, I’m hoping this was nothing more than an isolated incident, but there are a whole stack of baby books just waiting for me to butcher and drain of any potential interest.