On Rocking

I loved rocking Andrew. As soon as he came home from the hospital, and started the crying that lasted four months, I began to rock that baby. I rocked him to sleep for naps and bedtime. I rocked him when he was sick. Or woke up in the middle of the night. And I especially loved rocking him while reading books. Sure sometimes I grew impatient with rocking him until he fell asleep, but, for the most part, I was able to bond with that baby in a big red glider.

I would probably still be rocking that boy if he slept in the room with the big red chair. Now Baby Ben's room.

I was looking forward to rocking Ben. I knew it would be difficult with Andrew also requiring my attention. But, I was determined to at least try and rock Baby Ben.

And try I did. Whenever I had a moment, I would rock Ben. And? He hated it. So I tried even harder. "You will enjoy rocking!", I told him. He screamed even louder. He refuses to be rocked. Ben will tolerate being gently "jiggled" while I stand and sway. But, even then, he often fights sleep to the point that this too, is more frustrating than offering any special moments alone with my youngest.

So for now, I just have to kiss him and put him in his crib. Where sometimes he cries and falls asleep; sometimes he plays with a toy and fall asleep; and sometimes he just stretches out and drifts off to la-la land.

But I haven't given up on the ole rocker just yet. Maybe he will learn to like it. Just maybe.