dylan,
Tonight I carried you into your room while you were still finishing your milk. The light was off and the door almost all the way closed. You had stopped drinking while I settled in to the rocking chair. You held your sippy cup against your chest as I lightly rubbed my hand over your head, smoothing your long stringy blond hair, which has yet to be cut.
I could see your eyelids fall as my hand curled around the back of your head and under your ear. They were slower and slower to rise until eventually they were content to stay closed.
I laid you in your crib, where you customarily rolled onto your side. I tucked Ivan under your right arm, then covered you head to toe with your lightweight alphabet blanket. Then, as always, I patted you on the bottom three hundred times.
On nights when I try to leave before you're settled, you let me know with a slow series of sharp whimpers. Tonight I stopped and listened, and heard you attempt to whimper, and then try again, unable to muster the usual energy. Unconvinced, I left.
And sleep came to you, quickly.
dad
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