On Sunday evening Jack was being a bit fussy and when it was finally time to go to bed he was having a bit of a tough time settling down to try and fall asleep. It was one of those times when he didn't want to sit up, didn't want to lie down, didn't want to lay on the floor, didn't want to suck on his pacifier or eat his bottle, etc.
The only thing that had worked to any degree for me the entire evening was putting him in his crib and then sitting next to it with my arm hanging over the side so that he could play with my fingers and bend them or squeeze them or lick them to his little heart's content.
So, when he started crying as Holly was attempting to put him to sleep I suggested that she go lay him in the crib and see what happened. She did, but it wasn't helping much until Holly started clapping. Yes, you heard me right, she started clapping. Apparently she does this from time to time to distract him from whatever is making him cry and shorten the crying fit by a good amount of time.
The strange thing was that she was clapping really loud, as in the kind of clapping you do when you are trying to be just a little bit obnoxious about it, not the kind of polite clapping you do at the end of a performance or speech.
Of course, Jack being the strange little boy that he is at times thought the clapping was the perfect sedative and promptly rolled over on his side and got a serious bout of the droopy eye syndrome so common in little babies who just can't stay awake any longer. A few more minutes of clapping and he was basically out, so Holly grabbed the closest book she could find, The Search for Wallace Whipple (my favorite of all time) and read him the first two pages.
He fell asleep and didn't wake up for 7 hours. Ridiculous I say, ridiculous!
8 years ago
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