The Anti-Sleep

I should have cut and paste the 3am email that detailed every losing attempt (and the general tone of the experience) of making Stella sleep. My clever husband knew it would be a nightmare night before he went to So Cal for "work." Mmm-hm. I gave him an eyeful in one of those moments every parent tells you about but you swear you'll never feel. That's right- you want to throw the writhing, Anti-Sleep out the window so you can get just 2 hours, just 2 contiguous hours, of blissful sleep.

It was one of those moments. It lasted 3 hours. She won. We played with the Family Book long enough for her to scratch at a few faces, make like she was going to require a dreaded 4am diaper change, and finally succumb to sleep.

All this from a gal who is generally quite sensible. When it happens, I don't have the practice or the tools. I want to join her in her tantrum and hand her off to the guy "working" in So Cal. Hence the email. At least I could hand off a few words.

The second morning came all too soon and we're playing (!) again. God, she has no shame!


The Anti-Sleep rides the Dashboard Rocker, mocking last night.