Explain this to me.

I do not understand the biological imperative that would drive my child to pester me to the point where I am considering sending him back from wence he came.

Last night the boys went to sleep like dreams. At 2 a.m., though, Griff did a flip in his sleep and hit the s:0ide of the crib hard enough that it woke Jay and me before he was able to draw a breath and cry.

I took the little darling downstairs. I'll admit that I thought I would soothe him and get him back to sleep within twenty minutes or so.

Shows what I know. The unprovoked attack by the crib infuriated and frightened Griffith to the point that he was beyond reason. He wasn't wet, didn't want a bottle, didn't want me to pat his bottom, didn't want me to sing (not even "our song" The Battle Hymn of the Republic). I laid him down and ignored him (twice for 10 minutes each time), held him, jostled him. The only thing that he would accept was me holding him on my right shoulder, not my left) and walking or swaying. Not standing still, not sitting down (not even swaying while sitting). From two on. I engaged in "magical thinking" --- if we make it to 3:10 a.m. I will lay him down and we will sleep all night. Except for the part where he roused at 3:08. Then the goal was 3:30. He would lie in a stupor so long as I walked or swayed, but the minute I stopped, it was on. He whirled like a dervish, screamed like he was being poked with hot pokers, and flipped and flopped until I nearly lost my mind. What biological imperative is served by this behavior? All I wanted was to be able to sit and doze or, at least, to read. No avail.