As I drove up Park avenue last night (baby in tow in hopes of quieting him), noticing the quaint little houses and apartments, I also took note of the moon: a waning crescent, cupped upward at 41% full. I keep track of the phases on an iGoogle widget because I like to know that a cycle is changing, ever ongoing.

Elliot is going through a phase of his own. The past two nights have been difficult.  Wednesday, he woke up around 12 and could not get back to sleep. Last night, he was awake from about 4PM until 2:30 AM, only having about three 20 minute naps in between. He just couldn’t seem to settle down, couldn’t overcome the fact that he was overtired and just plain uncomfortable. I began to resent him for a little while, and my husband too, who slept peacefully under the warm blanket, dog curled up next to him. The days when Elliot sleeps great always seem so far away and foreign when he goes through a phase like this one. It’s as if I have forgotten what those nights were like, because the bad ones are so incredibly bad.

He made up for it all when I woke him around 1 this afternoon and once he was wide awake and alert, we played on his little Ocean Wonders mat. He was all smiles and laughs, looking at himself in the mirror and cooing at the fish that plays little sailor jingles. It’s the times like those that remind me that it’s all worth it; all the nights when all I can think about is sleeping, all the times when he’s in his crib, trying to cry it out because he’s so sleepy, all the cranky moments just as we’re sitting down to dinner…. all very worth it in the end.