I laid Dear Son in his crib for a nap today. Without a peep he closed his eyes, rolled over on his side, put his chubby little thumb in his mouth, and went to sleep. I stood looking at him for a moment, full of pride. As I lingered, I realized that my "Mommy-esteem" was soaring, and I whispered a thank you to my dear wee-est one before exiting his room.
Those that know a bit about my history with Dear Daughter may know where I'm going with this. She has always been a high-maintenance type (still is to some extent). There was never a day in her little life, until she reached nearly two years of age, that I was able to lie her down for a nap and walk away. There were many times I questioned if I were doing it "right," as all the baby gurus (Sears, Ferber, Ezzo, and others) gave advice upon advice that either never worked for Dear Daughter or never worked for me, and there was never a chance that any of it would work for BOTH of us!
And so, today I admired my snoozing son, breathed a content sigh, smiled to myself, and thanked him for affirming to me that as far as he is concerned, I'm doing it all just right.