it’s one of my favorites, eight months.
having been down this road a few time i can say with certainty—eight months and 14 months.
and this one’s no different.
she sees the camera come out and she’s on it.
worm-wiggling her way over
can i have it?
our recent spate of sicknesses hasn’t spared her (both the stomach bug and now a cold), plus all the Cutting Of The Teeth. so her sleeping has gotten a bit out of whack.
meaning: she flat out refuses to sleep on her own, in her bed. and since she’s mastered the moving-from-laying-position-to-sitting-position maneuver, when i try to sneak in and check on her more often then not i find this:
savvvveeee meeee! i’ve pulled down all the blankets you draped around my playpen so i couldn’t see you coming and now i seeeeeee yooouuuu so sssaaaaavvvvveeee mmmmeeeeee!!!!
(please pardon that unfortunate dora blanket. it came in a hand-me-down bag and was immediately claimed by gigi.)
it really borders on spooky. the kid can hear you—no matter how stealthy you think you are. no matter how quietly you think you’re tiptoeing. really—in the middle of the night when she cries we have to lay COMPLETELY STILL. she can seriously hear the movement of the down comforter and knows when you’re getting up.
so our goal now is to suffer through these nights until she’s sleeping completely on her own, through (most of) the night. and then she can join her sisters in the girls’ dormitory.
but as much as i long for uninterrupted nights of sleep…i look down at that little face and think this is it. my last baby. the last little one who’s greatest desire is the comfort of my arms, and the warmth of my milk.
but then she bites me and sticks her fingers up my nose and it’s over and i throw her back in her bed to cry.