Next Thing You Know, I'll Be Turning Backflips

As my mom would say, Sayer's in a mode right now.

A high maintenance mode.

He's the third kid, so we operate under "whatever works" now instead of being hyper about anything.  So long as my kid gets decent naps and is well fed, I'm happy. 

And with two older kids in this house, getting decent naps is sometimes tough. 

So on a general day, I nurse the kid, he passes out, and I put him in his bed.  Quick, easy, and gentle.

But for the past two days, the boy has been increasingly difficult to put to sleep.  He fusses and thrashes and cries... and cries.  And just sounds broken-hearted.  Today, after trying unsuccessfully to nurse him down, I decided to try Daddy's method of popping a pacifier in his mouth and rocking him. 

More crying and crankies.

I changed his diaper, changed his outfit, changed my outfit, (you know, in case he was offended by my mismatched pajamas), turned out the lights, stood up...

Nothing was working.  And the poor kid sounded miserable. 

And then his flailing hand found it's way into my mouth.

INTO MY MOUTH.

I started to pull my head back and noticed something peculiar.  Silence.  The kid had a death grip on my lower jaw.  But he'd stopped crying.

Seconds later?  The kid was out like a light. 

So I'll be keeping this one in my back pocket.  Death grip on Mama's lower jaw results in near instantaneous sleep.

Hey, whatever works.