(Wook at da wittle chub.)
JB and I have a problem with sleep. You see, Andrew likes our bed. A lot.
I think it's for a few reasons.
1)I work early early in the mornings, so I go to bed by 9 PM. 8:30 if possible. It's just easier to bring him in bed with me to nurse while I sleep.
2) He really likes to nurse. Look at that chubbiness! He also doesn't like the bottle so much. Oh he'll take one -- he doesn't like to feel hungry, but he'd rather wait until I'm home (I'm freezing so much milk that I'm pumping everyday).
3) He was really sick a few weeks ago, so we had him in with us a lot. And my family was in town for my sister's wedding and we needed his bedroom.
All of the above means he is now just used to sleeping in our bed. Seriously though, what's not to love? Mom is right there, dad is right there.... But this means JB and I stay frozen in one spot all night, with one eye half-open to peek at him and make sure he's ok. If we are not too sleepy, then we slip him back into his crib across the hall, only to bring him back in a few hours when he wakes up again.
I know we ought to let him cry it out.
Buuut,
I can't lie, I'm a bit of a softie.