I’m already losing track of how many nights it’s been since the boys have gone down without bottles. Either four or five. Big boy beds, no bottles, sleeping through the night… I thought it would never happen and then it happened way too fast. Is it wrong to be secretly relieved that sometimes they fall out of bed in the middle of the night and want me to hold them?
I love them so much that sometimes it’s physically painful. It’s like getting punched in the gut, but inexplicably you like it.