Cass slept through the night at six weeks.
It was a very good thing that he did, as I was insane with new Mom jitters, and while it didn't mean I got to sleep any more (I was too busy going into the nursery at fifteen minute intervals to stand and watch his chest go up and down) it did mean time that I wasn't sobbing and trying to figure out what he wanted.
He's always been a good sleeper.
However, lately he's been having nightmares that wake him up and send him padding down the hall to ask if he can sleep with me. Most of the time Bear or I go back and sit with him in his room for awhile - he gets into his bed and we talk about his dream and how it was just a dream and that he'll only have good dreams the rest of the night.
Sometimes, the woebegone little face gets the best of me and he piles in, happy as all get-out, and we have whispered conversations about the cats and his stuffed dogs (Beau and Charlie, whom are usually brought along, shared out, and tucked in too) and then his eyes go slowly heavy and he'll yawn and settle himself.
(and memories of nights in the nursery, rocking and watching him fall asleep come flooding back)
And I fall to sleep smiling, clutching a stuffed animal and remembering how it felt when the world fell asleep on my lap.