Victory is MINE, friends.
So that morning he cried - nay, wailed - for an hour.
The next morning he slept forty minutes later, got out of bed twice, but only cried for about ten minutes when I put him back. (Meanwhile, I scooped up a just-stirring Asher and put him in my bed, hoping he would fall back asleep. Ten minutes later he came out into the living room, rubbing his little eyes and saying, "Daddy sent me out of his bed. He said I was asking too many questions. But I had a lot of things I wanted to tell him!" I know, buddy. But not at 5 a.m.)
This morning - the time at the tone is 5:37. A few minutes ago I heard a little noise, and the boy is so STEALTHY that I thought for sure he had already snuck out into the sunroom. I peeked in and - no. He was just playing with his little toy in his bed, not making a sound. He still hasn't started talking or calling for me. Of course, the disheartening part about this is that Asher isn't here this morning, so there is some element of sharing a room that is adding to the problem. But they shared a room for a few months without him waking up so early, so that's not all of it. And if we can break the 4 a.m. habit before the baby comes and forms a 4 a.m. habit of her own - that's all I ask.
5:40. Still quiet.
This is me, cheering silently and making coffee ALL BY MYSELF.
Good morning world.