Pride

For a while there, Isla was going to sleep on her own. She would get sleepy, we would put her in the crib, and she would go to sleep. Then when she got sick, we started rocking her and rubbing her back to put her to sleep. Since Isla is starting to feel better, my mother insisted yesterday that she go down for her nap without any rocking or rubbing. And Isla fought her. Hard. But my mom prevailed.

So this morning, I was determined to follow through. When Isla got fussy and started yawning, I placed her in her crib. She fussed and cried, and I walked away. Shortly thereafter, the crying stopped. I was so proud. Proud of my mom for working with her yesterday. Proud of myself for not giving in. Proud of Isla for being such a good girl. I was mistaken.

I went back to Isla's room to see if I needed to adjust her blanket, and look what I found. Isla sitting on the edge of her crib, legs through the slats, crowing proudly at her own cleverness.