Bye Bye Burrito

Baby Girl LOVES to cuddle, loves to be held and, until this week, has loved being swaddled tightly.

Everyone who has seen me put her down for a nap or at night asks, "Are you going to swaddle her until she is three?!"
When she was a newborn, we had a cream-colored swaddler. Himself started calling her the "little burrito," commenting that all we needed to do was add a little foil and it would make a perfect Halloween burrito costume (I thought he'd had too much Chipotle).

In truth, I was hoping she'd hit the "hating to be confined" stage soon, as she's almost too big for her swaddler, and one of these days the blankets I swaddle her in for naptime will be too small. But it seemed she loved the security of it. It certainly helped her sleep, and I thought I'd end up with a kid who wanted to be wrapped up until she graduated from pre-school.

But this past week she began fussing when we'd try to swaddle her at night. Not wanting to sacrifice sleep on a weeknight, I would wait until she was drowsy, then snuggle her in. She didn't protest when she was half asleep, drifting off into dreamland contentedly.

Last night, instead of putting her in a onesie and her swaddler, I put her in her blue pooh-bear footie pajamas (one of the only ones that fits her well enough to be safe sleeping in - everything else, including the sleep sack, is far too big for her). I read to her, rocked her for a few minutes and lay her down in her crib.

She opened her mouth, as usual, like a fish - waiting for her pacifier. She held onto her little stuffed bear. She played with her pacifier and jabbered to her bear, finally drifting off about 10 minutes later. I went in, removed the bear, and watched her tiny little self lay spread-eagled on the mattress.

She slept all night.

I went in this morning and she was curled up in a ball, her little bottom high in the air, her cheek smooshed up against her pacifier (that never goes back in her mouth after the first five second she lies down).

Bye, Bye Little Burrito.

ETA: I just put her down for her nap. No sleep. I finally went in an swaddled her - she was asleep in two minutes, flat. Maybe this isn't good-bye quite yet, but rather a transition of sorts, to keep myself from feeling that lingering bittersweet ache of celebrating a child growing up, while mourning all that will never be again.