The night-time routine. Ian is clad in jammies and doing laps around his room. John is reading a story from the rocking chair. I am laying on the rug on the floor, relaxing, listening to the story, and obliging when Ian comes over to ask to nurse. Which is about once every three minutes, and lasts 45 seconds each. Give or take. I've got a cold, so am trying not to get Ian sick as well. Somehow he gets the idea, and I'm not sure how it started, but he's now coming over and trying really hard to plant his neck on my face. Because then I make some noise and he's tickled and giggles. He does that until he can't stand it, then goes away and comes back for more. Such a very very silly boy. And all of this is enough to make John look up from the book in an "I'm reading. Is anyone here paying attention!?" sort of way which quickly turns to a "What on earth is that boy doing!?" sort of way.
Ian moves to giving me raspberries to the tummy, which are hilarious as well, and then it's time to nurse down.
He was down at 10 or so, fell out of bed about midnight, and then slept until 6am! This is the second big night in a row. We have high hopes for more sleep to come, but are just thankful for these few nights in a row, and feeling productive and on the mend (cold-wise-speaking).
