Days fly past. Ian is sad in his bed right now. About seven minutes into bedtime. I'll go check on him in a minute. He was asleep when I put him down. Oh, quiet . . . he's calming down. Still breaks my heart, though. Oh, no, there he goes again. The thing that makes me feel a little more okay is seeing him through the daytime. He still laughs and wrestles and giggles and squeals with joy. He's still himself. I would like to make it a gentle, so-sweet, painless transition for us both, but I haven't heard the magic trick for baby sleeping alone and happy short term. Long term, he'll be okay.
He's quiet now. He did take a nap with no tears yesterday. Slept for an hour. I scoop him up when he makes noise after he initially falls asleep. And so far he sleeps at least three hours at night and up to an hour for nap. He'll get more comfortable and confident.
There, less than ten minutes tonight for quiet. He'll be fine. And I'm feeling better not holding him for hours in the evening. I get desert now :). I can write a little :). And with school starting next week, I need Mama time, too. He's eleven months old. He knows we adore him. He misses us, of course, and we miss him. But time apart is okay, too. Good nights.